The Next Age
by Biskoff
Summary: The galaxy is vast, ancient, and dangerous. The younger races do not realize just how true this is. They are unaware of the giants that walk among the stars and the monsters that wait in the endless dark. But they will learn... or they will fall. For the next Age is coming.
1. The More Things Change

Elysium, 2276

Londo reclined on his balcony overlooking a gently sloping valley. At the southernmost edge of Illyria, his private residence had an excellent view of the forest below and the vast mountain ranges in the distance.

'_An alpine paradise, indeed.'_ He thought.

The home had been bought when the humans were just finishing the construction of the city, and he had gotten an extraordinarily good deal for it through his connections at the Alliance Parliament. The district he was in was populated by wealthy and influential business owners from across the galaxy.

He reached over and clicked open a small wooden box sitting on the table. The container, a small refrigerator, lifted its lid and revealed the chilled contents. Londo smiled as he picked up the bottle and looked at its label.

_Cristal Champagne _

_Bottled 2207_

"This drink is older than I am." He chuckled to himself. It would also taste extraordinary if his memory about human drinks was correct. He would need to thank Urza for sending a gift like this.

Londo pressed an automatic bottle opener to the cork and waited. With a tiny pop, the cork was removed and Londo set down the opener. He lifted the rim to his nose and let the scents waft to him.

He smile widely and lowered the bottle to the wine glass on the table. The phone rang the instant he finished pouring. He let loose a deep sigh and set the bottle down. He walked through the glass door towards the phone, muttering about interrupted vacations.

The balcony door closed itself behind him just in time for the glass wall to explode.

Glass and wood shattered around him as a pressure wave knocked him off his feet and further into the room. He landed several feet forward in a moaning sprawl.

Londo sucked in a deep breath once his lungs allowed it. The wind had been knocked right out of him. He could feel a trickle of blood run down his face and a sharp pain on across his forehead.

He groaned as he pushed himself onto his hands and knees. The world was moving in and out of focus. His hand landed on the edge of some broken glass and he yelped in pain.

The injury made his hazy mind focus.

The phone was still ringing from somewhere in broken bedroom. He ignored it. He rubbed the cut on his palm and looked at the glass that had injured him.

He picked up the piece of broken glass and turned it over. Even smeared with some of his own blood, the markings were clear.

_al Champa_

_ottled_

Londo stared at the piece of glass and the label still attached to it. It slowly slid out of his numb fingers and clattered among the other wreckage on the floor.

He turned to look out at the valley. Nearly a dozen transport shuttles and a handful of fighters were roaming the sky, firing at random buildings and searching for landing areas.

He snarled. "Monsters."

The centauri forced his way onto his feet and looked around. The railing of balcony was barely hanging onto the main platform, the expansive windows were shattered, and most of his bedroom furniture had been knocked over. He made his way to his bed and reached underneath for the case holding his plasma pistol. When he retrieved it and several energy caps, he walked to the wall and pulled one of the coutari out of its ornamental coat of arms.

The battle had only begun, and he had no intention of losing it.

With a weapon in each hand he made his way down the stairs and into the foyer. As he reached for the door handle he heard muffled voices on the other side.

"-rich ones make bad slaves, just shoot 'em and loot."

"Good idea picking this district, Grodath. We're gonna be set for years after this."

Londo withdrew his hand as the footsteps grew louder. Thinking quickly, he pushed himself up against the wall right next to the door.

When the lead pirate kicked the door in, it slammed right onto him. Londo muffled his gasp as the heavy door pushed against him. Two batarians, a drazi, and a turian sauntered into his home. They didn't even care to look behind them as the stared at the paintings and furniture with greed.

Londo decided he didn't like them gawking at his belongings. _'At least'_, he thought, _'their last sight will be something nice.'_

Let it never be said that Londo Mollari took no pride in his belongings.

He slipped out from behind the door and crept forwards. The drazi was looking upwards at the chandelier while the other three were arguing about which pieces of jewel encrusted furniture to carry off first.

Without warning or sound, Londo slid the coutari right into the back of the drazi's neck and up into his brain. From that angle, the drazi's thick skull was completely bypassed. The large alien slumped and Londo had to strain not to drop the still embedded weapon under the drazi's weight.

The centauri noble managed to hold up the drazi and positioned himself directly behind the taller and broader alien. Though his arm ached from the effort Londo managed to hold up the drazi as a shield, take careful aim, and shoot the lead batarian in the back.

With a fully charged shot, the powerful plasma bolt struck and overloaded the batarian's kinetic barriers. The superheated gas continued, incinerating his clothing and charring flesh and bone. The force of the shot blew the batarian forward over the ruby inlaid credenza he had been admiring.

His remaining two companions spun in shock. The turian was the faster of the two, nearly managing to lift his rifle before Londo shifted his pistol and fired again. The turian met the same fate as his leader. The final batarian dropped his rifle, instead choosing to rush Londo.

With a heave, Londo pushed the drazi's corpse forward and forced the batarian to dodge the massive body. He slid the superfine edge of the blade out of the drazi's neck and performed a rapid sidestep followed by a lunge.

He closed distance with the last batarian, who had activated his omni-blade, and struck out.

Astonishingly the batarian parried the attack and returned with one of his own. Londo narrowed his eyes as he deflected and weaved his blade. The batarian's omni-blade was longer than normal, thicker and it wasn't wearing down the way most omni-blades did after a few uses.

This raider had modified his omni-tool to make a superior blade and he knew how to use it.

A quick glance at his pistol confirmed Mollari's fears about using it. The energy cap was well over half empty, enough for only two more shots. Setting it near its highest power output had drained its power rapidly. In addition, at such short range he feared the backwash of heat from such a close target.

With a grimace Londo made his move. He maneuvered his coutari to slide along the batarian's blade as they clashed once more. The slaver's four eyes widened as Londo suddenly closed the distance and the sharp edge of each blades came close to the opponent.

Londo seized the moment of surprise and slackened his wrist. His loosened stance and the forwards momentum of his body allowed his blade to effortlessly swerve around the omni-blade. Once past, his wrist tightened and his arm lashed outward.

Right across the batarian's throat.

He watched the pirate collapse, clutching his slashed throat in vain. Only once the batarian had fallen still did Londo allow himself to turn his back on the alien.

A feral grin was etched across his face. He hadn't had a fight like this since the raid of Frallis in his youth. His blood was boiling and the call for glory was sounding loudly in his ears.

As he walked out of the house he truly realized that the fight was just beginning. Smoke was billowing and distant explosions could be heard throughout the city. He grimaced, swapped out his pistol's energy cap, and started moving.

Eventually, after three more raiders and another rapid combination of his pistol and sword, the centauri made it to one of the garden plazas for the district. A human and a pair of salarians were advancing on a large fountain in the center with their weapons raised. Their backs were to him.

'_Perfect.'_

Silently he ran toward the trio. Whatever they were focused on was giving him the chance he needed to-

One of the salarians tripped. Despite their being little debris in the area and the grass being dry, the salarian had _tripped_. His stumble was seized upon. A rifle smoothly slid out from over the fountain's edge and put a new hole through the green skinned head.

Londo reached the other salarian a moment later. He swung his blade low; the razor sharp metal neatly severed the salarian's legs. As the alien screamed and dropped to the floor Mollari lashed out with a kick aimed at its bulbous eyes.

The human turned at the sound of his comrade's shout and hefted his shotgun at Londo. A group of slugs buzzed past him, but the distance was far enough that the scattered pellets didn't connect.

A uniformed human woman with red hair raised herself up from inside the large fountain wall and loosed a volley of rounds at the pirate's torso. The slugs hit his kinetic barrier, which flicked and shut down with a visible flash of blue light. With the raider's shields down, Londo threw the coutari towards the man as the woman ejected a thermal clip and dropped back behind cover. His blade spun swiftly through the air before impaling the pirate through the chest.

A shout of rage from a nearby building kept Londo from posturing over his good throw. The grass around him was thrown up as mass accelerator rounds whistled.

Londo ran across the plaza towards the fountain and the human soldier. As he passed the downed raider he smoothly pulled the sword out of its latest victim without slowing. He stepped onto a small stone bench and leapt into the safety of the stone fountain. With a splash of water Londo landed and lay down behind the thick stone hedge.

A handful of shots struck the fountain's spout above them, shattering sections of the carved marble. Realizing the shots weren't doing anything to the hidden pair, the gunfire soon ceased.

"You're a soldier, yes? What is happening? Aside from the obvious please." Londo asked once he was certain he was still in one piece.

The woman looked over his expensive, now soaked, clothes and the sword gripped in his hand. She raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"I killed nine people to get here! You _will_ tell me the situation." He proclaimed.

"These guys aren't that good." The redhead riposted.

Londo gaped momentarily. "Aren't that-"

A burst of gunfire shattered a plant vase resting on the fountain's wall. Londo raised himself out of cover and took careful aim. His plasma pistol fired three times. The first shot missed. A window superheated in a spray of molten glass as a section of wall next to the batarian shooter exploded from the plasma impact. The second shot struck true, the pirate's armor flared as the kinetic barriers dropped from the potent weapon. The third round followed suit, vaporizing the outer armor and penetrating into the torso. The batarian dropped to the ground with a solid thump.

Mollari fell back behind the low wall as his previous position was peppered with kinetic slugs and plasma bolts. He winced as the heat washed over his skin.

The redhead's lips quirked. "Like I said, they aren't that good."

Upon seeing the centauri's face scowl fiercely, she decided to stop joking and answered his earlier question. "Raiders bypassed our patrols. They're hitting most of the city. All military units are scrambling and militias are mobilizing to defend civilians."

"What of reinforcements?" Londo prodded.

"There's half a dozen picket fleets inbound. At least a few hours out. They were patrolling the region." She informed him.

"I'm _so_ reassured they're coming to the rescue." Londo's voice was thick with sarcasm. "Just how did they manage to miss a fleet of _pirates_ in the first place!?"

She grunted. "Dunno. I doubt these guys just got lucky. Not with this many of them. But there aren't a lot who have access to our patrol patterns. Least it'll make ferreting out a leak that much easier."

The woman tilted her rifle around the corner and fired several rounds without looking. A scream could be heard from across the open plaza.

Londo narrowed his eyes at her. He looked the human female up and down. A nice figure even through the damp, heavy uniform. It was blue and black and small handful of medals was spread across the chest. On the collar were two trapezoids, one gold and one silver. The rank of a First Lieutenant. The most important part he noticed was the emblem on the shoulder: a bronze diamond surrounding a white symbol.

He _knew_ that symbol.

"You're a psychic." He declared.

In response she held her rifle up again and, once again without looking or leaving cover, fired off another burst. A very _close_ gasp and gurgle followed. Someone had been trying to advance quietly on them, and had nearly reached the wall they were hiding behind.

"That's cheating!" Londo declared.

"Hmm?" She answered smugly. Her green eyes flickered with humor.

"Cheating, I say! You can tell where they are without seeing them!"

"Yeah. What're you gonna do about it?"

Londo gawked at the woman for a long moment.

He was Londo Mollari. He was Paso Leati. He would not be challenged by this- this _girl_.

The centauri gritted his teeth even as a predatory smile crossed his face. His sword and pistol were gripped tightly in his hands.

Londo did a crouching leap out of cover and began to sprint to a nearby building, firing whenever a target presented itself. Their enemies took cover from the barrage of plasma rounds, but one shot managed to clip the top of a crouched raider's head. The batarian dropped limply.

"Eleven!" With his count shouted he rushed into the door of the nearest building.

The human woman stayed sitting where she was for several moments. She shook her head and smiled. She hadn't quite been expecting _that_ but…

Then she plucked a grenade off her belt, waited a few seconds… and tossed it into a window on the second story of the building Londo had just entered.

An explosion blew out a section of the upper wall along with a handful of shredded body parts.

When the smoke cleared nearly a minute later, Londo Mollari stepped forward towards the edge of the blasted wall.

"Fourteen." She called up to him.

Londo pointed at his chest and shouted back. "I'm at twelve. Also…" He took a deep breath. _"CHEATING!" _

A smatter of gunfire cut off anything else he might have said. Londo and Shepard didn't hesitate at shooting back.

* * *

><p>The pair was resting amidst the rubble of a statue. It had been some piece of modern art. Probably. There wasn't much left of it in one piece. But from the look of the fragments scattered about the courtyard, Londo couldn't imagine that it had been an accurate portrayal of anyone.<p>

Or maybe the metal had just warped from the heat of plasma weapons or a thermal grenade. That was just as likely now that he thought about it.

The sun was starting to set on the horizon, giving the thick smoke in the sky a reddish hue. Idly, Londo thought it looked like the sky was burning.

He shook his head at the thought. They had won today. Despite losses and pain, the people of Elysium had beaten back the raiders.

But it wasn't a full victory. Reports had already come in that some of the League and centauri colonies were now under attack. The very colonies that the Alliance patrols had _left_ to come to Elysium's aid.

Though the battle had been won, the war was still being fought elsewhere.

Londo gritted his teeth. Those were centauri colonies. Centauri _people_. And the Centaurum, in all its idiocy, hadn't put more than a few token ships in the region, choosing instead to pay the Alliance Navy for protecting the fledgling colonies. Even the other House Fleets seemed content to let the humans do the work and get the glory.

'_D__isgraceful. Where did our strength go? Where is our will?'_

The woman was lying down next to him. The high powered mass accelerator rested at her side. Her face was smeared with dirt and ash and an empty bandoleer sat between her feet. Her uniform's jacket had been removed and a large patch of dried blood stained her shirt. Her breathing was labored and occasionally disrupted by hacking coughs. She had inhaled a mouthful of gas given off by a salarian's grenade. She seemed fine, but she needed to get better treatment than medi-gel to heal the damage.

Londo himself looked little better. His expensive coat was ruined from the smoke and ash. Its left sleeve had caught fire from being too close to a plasma bolt and the coattails had numerous bullet holes from near-misses. His right arm and leg still tingled from the medi-gel doing its work where there _hadn't_ been misses.

He let loose a shaky breath. But they had won. The raiders were in a rout, trying to escape the planet only for most to be shot down by Alliance vessels. _'Soon we will be taking the fight to them.'_

"I doubt it." The lieutenant retorted. She didn't seem very pleased. Just resigned.

Londo took a gulp from the canteen and looked towards her. "You doubt what?"

"The Alliance making them pay for this. More than we have already, at least." She gestured towards the plaza around them. A score of bodies from nearly a dozen different species were scattered around them. It was a macabre testament to the skill and ferocity of the pair.

"What makes you say that? This scum attacked us. Their allies are still out there. Of course they need to be dealt with." Mollari questioned.

The woman, named Shepard as Londo had learned, shrugged helplessly. "It just wouldn't work. For a lot of reasons. Navy drive cores are piles of crap and hyperspace isn't mapped in most of the Verge. Pulling ships out of the Orion Arm is asking for an attack from the dilgar. Political pressure from the Citadel and League to stop 'turian-human warmongering'." She finger quoted. "Like I said, lots of reasons."

"So your government will do nothing?" Londo asked, unbelieving of her words. The humans had fought the dilgar to a standstill, bled across dozens of worlds and had never given in. Despite humanity's technological inferiority to many of its contemporaries they were considered a military powerhouse for a reason.

But now they wouldn't put in the effort to fight pirates and brigands? Now they would do nothing? As a human city burned and other worlds, _centauri_ worlds, were still under attack?

"We'll probably expand our patrols in the area. Send a few N7 teams to take out the warlords who organized the attack. So not nothing." Shepard responded. Londo gritted his teeth at the continued blasé attitude.

"Not nothing? Keeping your fleets back while my people are at risk of further attacks isn't nothing? I thought you humans were supposed to be soldiers." He was goading her, but he didn't care. He had seen more than a few centauri corpses in the battle today. Some were victims and most had been offenders, but he felt angered at their deaths all the same.

"The Centauri aren't part of the League. The Navy will protect your colonies per the defense agreement. We'll clear out the Verge eventually. We just can't do it right away. Parliament won't open another front when we're dealing with just as many raiders back in Orion."

Londo stared down at her. Her green eyes were unwavering at his accusing look. After several long moments she responded.

"The Alliance will push them back and figure out how they got the jump on us. We'll keep it from happening again."

Her next words angered him in a way he hadn't felt in years.

"If you're so worked up, get the Centaurum off its ass and help out a little." She leaned her head back, sighed, and muttered. "Ugh. Is this how the turians feel protecting all the whiny Citadel people?"

He held back a tirade. He hated to admit it, but she was right. She was _right_.

How often had he said something similar? That the Centaurum's failings would be the death knell of the Republic? That they shied away instead of facing their problems? Even the few centauri colonies in the region were more protected by League ships than the Republic Navy.

Londo turned away from Shepard with his thoughts racing. A speech to the Centaurum would be pointless. A proposal to the Emperor would be disregarded. The Republic Navy would not act without Imperial mandate. But he was still the Lord of House Mollari… and he still had a House Fleet. It wasn't much of one compared to some other Houses, but it was there. Waiting.

He would have a few calls to make when he got back.

Behind him, Lieutenant Shepard smiled faintly. It didn't last as her lungs spasmed in pain and she started coughing violently. Londo turned back and knelt to help her, but there was little he could do. Medi-gel had proven ineffective against whatever Shepard had inhaled.

All he could do was hold her shoulders as she hacked specks of blood. She was starting to cough so hard that she wasn't taking in enough air. All of a sudden she went very still. Her eyes widened as her back arched and her face turned upwards. Londo took a step backwards at the sudden movement.

Then Londo caught sight of something in his periphery. He turned and his breath caught.

It was a vorlon. Ambassador Kosh, whom he had seen only twice in his several years as a liaison to the Alliance.

But Kosh was focused on Shepard and Londo turned back to look at her. A fine mist of green particles was being drawn up and out of her throat. The mist gathered into a small ball of sludge barely larger than a pinhead, suspended over Shepard's open mouth. Eventually the mist stopped coming out and Shepard was released from her position. She dropped limply on the street taking deep gasps of air. The ball of poison levitated over to the vorlon's large encounter suit and entered one of the many ports on the chest. The encounter suit chimed softly.

It was only then Kosh put his attention towards Mollari. His green eye rested on Londo for several long moments. Gripped by indecision about what to say, he simply nodded his thanks. From her spot on the ground Shepard nodded as she massaged her throat.

Eventually the ambassador spoke. "The future is changed..." Kosh changed his view from Londo to Shepard. "And it is the same."

With that, Kosh strolled smoothly away. Neither tried to stop him.

It was only a minute later when a small squad of Alliance soldiers found the pair silently staring down the street the vorlon had gone.

* * *

><p>Sorinthia System, 2181<p>

The Sentri fighter swerved through the debris field chasing its prey. With only the planet nearby, and it too was under attack by centauri forces, there was nowhere for the inferior craft to run.

A pair of pirate craft tried to maneuver through the wrecked hull of one of their capital ships, only for one to scrape its starboard wing. The fighter began to spin out of control and forced his comrade to dodge and distance himself. It was unfortunate, but the other pilot had clearly written off his fellow.

As the damaged craft spiraled without control the Sentri fired its pair of particle guns. The bolts streaked across the open blackness and struck directly in the main fuselage. The pirate craft was gutted as molten metal and debris was flung from the wreckage.

With surprising ease the large Sentri swerved and accelerated, chasing down the other pirate. The fighter tried to weave and reach somewhere safe but its support ship had been destroyed. Neither was it FTL capable. It was trapped and being hunted.

The Sentri closed in the opposing fighter briskly. The raider had some skill and was managing to avoid falling under the particle guns' firing arc. Eventually though, a mistake was made.

A turn had been completed too wide and too slow, the subpar craft finally straining past its limits after the long battle. Moments later it too was an expanding field of metal and circuitry.

Londo Mollari relaxed in the pilot's seat. Even with the joy that came from flying and fighting, shooting down hordes of ships was difficult and exhausting. He wasn't young anymore and at times he needed to remind himself of that.

'_I'll stay on the Primus next time, I suppose.'_ He thought. He didn't mind commanding from a distance but there just wasn't the same feeling as being out among the fighters.

Londo veered his Sentri around and began a course back towards the main battle group. A pair of Vorchan's was heading in his direction, making a sweep with their sensors for any incoming ships and moving into position if a second group of pirates and mercenaries were to arrive. The massive Primus warship, the _Audax_, was trailing behind them at a distance.

Without warning his communicator chirped and a messaged began to play across dozens of radio and tachyon frequencies.

The voice was grating and smug. The slight echo gave its owner away as a turian and Londo recognized the voice instantly.

Elanos Haliat. The very turian who had orchestrated the Skyllian Blitz.

"_Hope you like my gift Mollari."_ The flanged voice cut off.

Londo's mind raced. The few remaining raiders were in disarray. Their warships were shattered hulks and the bases on the planet were falling one by one to centauri soldiers.

It could be a trick but…

Londo's eyes narrowed. It had been neither luck nor fate that had allowed Haliat to escape so many times. The turian was cunning and ruthless. If he said there was a trap, it was most likely bait for the _real_ one.

He switched on his transmitter. "Mollari to all ships. Be on the lookout for any unusual activity. Report it immediately and do not investigate. I'll say it again: _do not investigate_. I'll strangle anyone who wastes lives out of foolishness."

His lips pursed as he turned his fighter to head back to the _Audax_.

Mollari landed the Sentri and waited for it to be safe to open the hatch. When he finally managed to get out of the fighter, he saw one of the last things he wanted to.

Vir, omnipresent as ever, was waiting for him with a young centauri with a crisp, fresh uniform. As Londo approached Vir gestured to the Juros to speak.

"Lord Mollari, we're receiving a transmission from Centauri Prime. Per your orders we have not responded but Lord Vintari seemed urgent." The Juros informed him.

"Ah. A shame our communications are down." Londo brushed off the request.

The Juros blinked in confusion. "Sir? The communication equipment is working fine."

Londo stared flatly at the young centauri. He shook his head. The boy must be new. There was no other explanation.

"No, it _isn't_. If I have to go up there and shoot the equipment myself, to _prove_ it's not working, then I will. Understand?"

"I-" The boy was cut off.

"Are you _really_ going to make me do that? Are you going to make me go up to the bridge and shoot that poor console? That, that witless panel of buttons and knobs? Do you _really_ want to me to put it out of its misery when it can be fixed?" Londo stared expectantly at the new recruit.

The Juros himself seemed flabbergasted. He quickly glanced at Vir, still standing behind Londo, for help. The portly man shook his head and silently mouthed 'just go with it.'

"The- um, the battle… disrupted our transmitters. We, um, can receive… but not broadcast?" The soldier questioned.

The Lord of House Mollari smiled. Barely. "That is a shame to hear. How long are they expected to be offline?"

The young centauri stammered. "Roughly ten…" Londo shook his head minutely. "Twenty…" Another shake. "Thirty…"Londo's lips quirked upwards.

"Roughly thirty hours, Lord Mollari." The Juros finally managed to piece together.

"Thank you. If there are any updates inform me immediately."

The pair watched the young recruit walked away uncertainly.

Vir stepped forward. "Is it wise to ignore House Vintari like this? I've heard Cartagia is not pleasant when he's ignored. Not to mention he _has_ sold us additional ships and supplies. He'll take this as an insult if he knows you're ignoring him."

"Fah! Cartagia is not pleasant to _anyone_ at _any_ _time_. The man's a moron. Why Refa keeps him around I have no idea." Londo shot back. He began walking towards the hangar exit.

Vir had no choice but to follow after him.

They continued like that for several minutes. Londo marching his way through the large warship while Vir followed behind, trying to get the older man to listen. He had as much success as he ever did.

That was, very little.

Finally they arrived at one of the lounges for the ship's officers. At the starboard side of the vessel, it had an excellent view of the planet they had just conquered.

Londo smiled widely to himself.

Conquered. It may have been taken from pirates and a local warlord, but the scum were most definitely fighting hard for it.

"I know what Vintari wants to talk about. It's the same thing Refa wanted to talk about a week ago. The same thing Urza wanted to talk about the week before _that_."

Vir looked at him in suspicion. He hadn't been aware of anyone else contacting his superior. "What is it? Why didn't you tell me? I'm supposed to be your assistant. How can I assist if you're doing things without telling me?"

Londo chuckled as he picked out a bottle from the drinking bar. Vir sighed even as he brought two glasses over to one of the window tables.

"They all want the same thing. Me." Londo declared smugly as they sat down.

Vir gave him a look of longsuffering.

Londo smiled cheerfully at the sight. "Well… us, I suppose." He swirled his glass and took a sip. "If you want to get more specific they want to take the reins on all of _this_." He gestured at the ship around them, the tiny shapes of starships in the distance, and the planet itself.

"You and I are heroes, Vir." Londo looked over at his friend and gave a quick nod. "And they know it."

"'Heroes' is such a-" Vir tried to begin, but was cut off.

"Of course we are! We started this campaign with what? Four Vorchans? Now we have ten times that many and a handful of Primus'. A dozen new worlds waiting to be settled, the Centauri Republic stretching its hands across the stars… and House Mollari paving the way." Londo sighed deeply in contentment.

Vir didn't reply immediately. He didn't like slavers and he didn't like the batarian government that was sponsoring them. But the Hegemony was getting bolder in their support of the criminals and warlords in this part of the galaxy. The raiders themselves were getting more desperate as their losses continued to mount. The Citadel was growing more uneasy as the Hegemony's proxies and the House Fleets escalated their battles. More and more of the Terminus put their focus on the Centauri Republic's expansion and what it might mean for them.

The Republic had sat out of the last few major wars. Vir feared that they might be sparking a wholly new one. With the Terminus. With the batarians. With _Aria_.

'_And unlike the Citadel or the League, we don't have allies to call on.'_ Vir mulled.

Londo continued, unaware of his assistant's hesitance. "Urza wants me to stop the campaign. Cartagia wants to join the fray as a commander, the hell with that. Refa wants me back at Centauri Prime so he can manipulate us. But _here_ is where we need to be!"

It was easy to get caught up in his superior's surety and charisma. It was why more and more centauri followed Londo's lead and his speeches to reclaim their people's rightful place as the Lion of the Galaxy.

But Vir had been Londo's assistant for four years. Since the very beginning of this. He knew Londo enough not to be swayed by words alone.

Vir Cotto had been sent to the Verge by his family to either die or at least be out of the way of House politics. His family could never have guessed the success he and Londo would have in the Verge. They hadn't realized Vir's newfound influence until the moment he gave a speech live on the interstellar channels commemorating the sacrifices of the centauri under his command.

"This is where we belong, Vir. Out here. Even with the fighting and the death… this is where we_ need to be_ to give the centauri a future."

But there were times where Vir didn't really have a response to boss's speeches.

* * *

><p>Ahead of the <em>Audax<em> one of the Vorchans was passing by the still smoldering hull of a pirate warship. Barely a frigate by even generous estimates, the ship had stood no chance against the powerful centauri vessels.

Within the shattered innards of the ship, a light flickered on. A single sensor pulse was sent out and detected the bypassing Vorchan. A large cargo container activated a cluster of maneuvering thrusters. The freight container reoriented itself rapidly. The metal cargo bin quickly maneuvered so its access door faced the nearby centauri warship.

On the bridge of the Vorchan, commands and warnings were being shouted. The radiological alarm had triggered just seconds ago at nearly pointblank range. The point defenses were moving to target the battered wreckage, but they weren't moving fast enough and the debris was getting in the way of the firing solutions.

Eight fission and three times as many standard missiles streaked outwards from their tubes and directly towards the Vorchan. The point defense plasma weapons tracked and fired as best they could, shooting down one after another.

But the range was simply too close and the missiles were simply too many.

From the lounge of the _Audax_ Londo watched as the Vorchan disappeared in a ball of fire.

* * *

><p>Codex: Events: The Skyllian Blitz<p>

The Skyllian Blitz was a series of assaults on several colonies in the Skyllian Verge. Beginning with a massive attack on Elysium, nearly a dozen smaller raids followed across centauri and League colonies. The pirate vessels somehow evaded the Alliance warships in the region before the raids, while the rapid pace and sheer number of attacks kept the human military in a running battle.

Despite the damage inflicted the Blitz was ultimately a failure for the pirate bands. Fierce ground fighting and dedicated pursuit and defense in space decimated the assaulting ships. The remaining slavers and mercenaries were eventually forced to flee or be completely destroyed.

The Centauri Republic, initially blaming the Alliance for not preventing the Blitz, began their own anti-piracy campaign. Surging into the Skyllian Verge, the Centauri House Fleets have destroyed many pirate holdings in the region and laid claim to the worlds in the name of the Republic.

Codex: Events: The Human Civil War

Humanity fell into civil war in 2224 following a prolonged narn-border conflict and renewed Mars riots. But these were simply the most recent issues that pushed the Earth Alliance past the tipping point. The causes of the civil war were many: telepath activism, a cry for self-governance on the colonies, a growing anti-alien movement following the most recent 'invasion', corruption in the Senate, increasing use of EarthForce to quell dissent, and continuing restrictions on civil freedoms all contributed. When President McGurk declared martial law and began issuing illegal orders fighting broke out across human space as ideologies and armies clashed.

The Earth Alliance, born to keep humanity united in the aftermath of World War 3, had failed.

As the civil war continued many began to protest against the devastation mankind was inflicting upon itself. A widespread unification movement picked up as nearby star-nations increased their aggression, sensing weakness in the fractured humans.

The war ended not with a bang but a whimper. As more and more armed humans flocked to the idea of a 'true alliance', the remaining warring factions were slowed to a crawl and forced to surrender. Mass tribunals, sweeping political reforms, government reconstruction, and new elections brought an end to over three years of strife. The Human Civil War ended with the Psi-Corps restructured as the Psionic Monitoring Commission, the Earth Alliance reformed as the Systems Alliance, and EarthForce into the Alliance Military.

AN: This is just something I work on in my spare time... which has been very sparse lately. Updates will be sporadic and random. I have a _lot_ of worldbuilding done and lots of codex entries, but actually writing something as large as this would be difficult. I'll see how it goes.


	2. Preparation and Determination

Citadel, 2281

Spirits, he hated this volus.

"…in addition, -hiss-shhh- the Vol Protectorate is willing to provide the Office of Special Tactics and Reconnaissance with -hiss-shhh- additional funding as long as-"

"Councilor Korlack." He didn't need to deal with this. He didn't _want_ to deal with this. "I do not have the authority or the desire to negotiate for an increase in Citadel funding for the Spectres. If you wish to alter the finances behind my branch, you need the approval and cooperation of the other Councilors."

There. Let Sparatus deal with this. If there was ever a turian who _deserved_ to be called a politician, it was him. Councilor Korlack, on the other hand, was as absolutely ham-fisted as a volus could come regardless of his financial expertise. They deserved each other in his opinion. Too much politics in places that didn't need them made his job as a Spectre much, _much_ more difficult.

Korlack looked immensely disappointed by the dismissal but perked up again after a moment.

"…very well Spectre, -hiss-shhh- I will be speaking to the other councilors about these proposals. -hiss-shhh - Though I don't doubt that you and some of the other veteran Spectres will be called upon to provide insight into -hiss-shhh- what is needed." Spirits, no. "Dangerous times have come, and the Citadel needs to be able to keep its interests safe. -hiss-shhh- We don't need another first contact tragedy like your patrol caused."

In an instant the turian went very still. That travesty of a first contact and the subsequent war was not looked upon well by most races, but the turians had been involved from the very beginning. They had started it, they had suffered the most, and they had lost the most. The asari and salarian ships that had been destroyed paled to the devastation inflicted upon the turians and their worlds. His arm, his birthworld, his _brother_…

Korlack seemed to realize his mistake, and quickly excused himself- "I should go."- before the Spectre could do anything more than glower furiously.

His mandibles taut as he stared at the volus' retreating back, he decided to get back to the Spectre Office before he did something rash and unnecessarily violent.

As he marched up the stairs he focused his attention away from the volus Councilor and the tactless words, instead focusing on what needed to be done before his next deployment into the Terminus Systems. Intelligence acquisition, a report to the council, drafting up a plan of action for his next job, a report to the council, _finally_ managing to test the new Scorpion pistol from the STG, and following that up with a report to the council. He didn't think his day could get much worse, but he was almost to the Office-

"Spectre Arterius. A moment if you would."

Saren's foot hit the floor much harder than he wanted it to.

Her. This woman and her thrice-damned species had no right to be on this station. Not after what they had done. The destruction of a single vessel and the damaging of another did not warrant the crimes her race had inflicted onto his.

His words came out hoarse, even as he forced himself to not just shoot her. If the STG's theories were right about this woman's history… then she was very much guilty. She would _die_ for what she had taken part in. "Ambassador. What can I do for you? I am in something of a hurry."

He turned slowly towards her, each movement measured and tense. He hated the very sight of her.

Pale, hairless skin and blue grey eyes. If not for the different features on the skull she could be passed off as some asari mutant. Wearing one of the typical outfits of her people, an ornately designed lilac robe fastened by a leather belt and a heavy sleeveless coat, she looked as prim and proper as any of the other politicians and executives on the Citadel.

"I was hoping to discuss with you the technology recovered by you and your compatriots some time ago. I believe it was confiscated from Elanus Risk Control."

'_How the hell does she know about that!?'_ Saren forced himself into nonreaction but was deeply disturbed.

That operation was classified to the highest levels. The private security company had found some ancient armory on a world in the Orion Frontier. It had been a joint operation with Spectres on the ground, STG waging cyber and electronic warfare to prevent the facility from getting messages out, and a ship from the Ghosts running surveillance and providing transport.

Saren quickly took stock of their surroundings. They were right near the Spectre Office, where no one was close enough to overhear or easily listen in with tech, and the ambassador was perfectly calm and composed. Saren on the other hand was thinking furiously. There was no way she could have learned of that raid short of a contact inside one of the most secretive special forces units in the galaxy.

Unless another group had been there, capable of avoiding detection and- _'Damn her species' stealth technology!'_

It was the only explanation. The ECM on each of their ships was unsurpassed in the galaxy. The turian military couldn't even target them in the war, forcing so many turian ships to sacrifice themselves just to get in close enough for a visual lock.

'_But it must have been a single ship, and we beat them to the prize.'_ Saren thought vindictively. He put on an air of nonchalance, after decades as a Spectre it was incredibly easy.

"Ambassador, there have been no assignments involving the Citadel and Elanus since that nasty business on Anedia years ago. Business which has long since been resolved." He took a single step towards her. "I am however concerned that you feel the need to intrude on the work of the Spectres. Your species is not considered… _appropriate_ for the tasks we must undertake to maintain galactic stability. Your kind has not even asked or been offered Associate status within the Citadel. So I have no idea why the Federation desires any knowledge of our activities."

He had to give the female credit. She didn't flinch or back down, simply maintaining the same calm demeanor. She kept smiling politely and responded.

"I do not fully agree with most actions the Spectres take, as you will find that none of my people hold themselves above the law. We are aware we are not _appropriate_ for your organization." Saren sneered at her though the differences between their facial structures meant she probably couldn't tell. She paused momentarily and walked to the side, pacing slightly as she continued. "We are interested in this matter because some of our people believe the technology acquired is dangerous. We are always concerned about any technology discovered in that section of the galaxy. And if I am correct in its origins, the destruction it can cause."

Saren couldn't bite back his retort. "As if your own technology isn't destructive enough."

Acting as if he had said nothing the ambassador continued. "The Federation may be considered an outside race amongst the Citadel, but we have been in space for as long as your own people, Spectre Arterius. We know of races far greater than ourselves, and we know enough to be wary of them even after they are gone."

Saren's mandibles flared at the condescending tone. He had to focus to keep analyzing her and what she was trying to say.

"Some factions within my people's government are worried about the recent influx of exploration and colonization. We fear that some colonists, or worse pirates and raiders, may stumble across things best left buried." The woman continued that disgustingly smug smile and Saren's dislike of her soared higher. "Even this so-called 'tech rush' has left us unsettled. The Citadel and the League and the independent powers are trying so are hard to gather strength. Poking in ruins for an edge against potential threats. They are ignoring the allies around them in favor of empowering themselves."

'_Ah.'_ Saren was only slightly disappointed. If she had actually been trying to warn them against uncovering some technology from an extinct race out of genuine concern for the damage it could do, she might have made a small sliver of respect. In the end this whole thing was just another attempt at her government trying to extend its influence. Again.

"-ust stand together in purpose, regardless of our past histories."

At this, Saren decided to let go of the tight hold he'd been keeping on his temper. He'd had to deal with that insufferable Khalisah news reporter from his ship to the air-car, an irritating C-Sec officer for not following Citadel protocol concerning firearms, the volus Councilor about funding –spirits the _wheezing_-, and now this purely political _garbage_. He was not going to listen to her talk about unity and peace after her species declared a campaign of _genocide_ on his.

The ambassador recoiled backwards against the nearby wall as Saren took a single fluid motion towards her, his face contorted in anger and his mandibles tight against his face. He loomed over her and spoke harshly. He spoke with the same voice that so many criminals, pirates, and warlords had heard before they died.

"Ambassador, I do not care about your ideas of _standing together_ any more than you care about the turians your fleets _slaughtered._ You want us to stop trying to match your technology? The technology that allowed you to _crush _our militaries? You are free to share it. As of this moment I could not care less about your posturing or political drivel. You want the Citadel races to follow yours after what you did!? Your people went to war with us over a single ship! How many of ours did you destroy? How many noncombatants did you shoot down in orbit? Murder in our cities? How many worlds did you _burn_ after you realized you couldn't blockade them all? Your arrogance is appalling and your self-righteousness repulsive. Your very embassy on the Citadel is a disgrace to _each and every turian_ who died trying to _stop you_."

By the end, Saren was breathing intensely and his talons were digging into his hard-suit. The woman, cornered by his figure stared up at him, afraid of what he might do.

And then the ambassador's communicator beeped. Saren took a step back from her and she breathed more easily.

"I believe that would be your aide Lennier wondering about where you are. After all you have a session with the Council soon, don't you Ambassador Delenn?"

Delenn, ambassador of the Minbari Federation, slowly stepped away from Saren. The turian before her seemed to regain control of himself. He had returned to the stance of a slouching predator.

For a moment it looked as though she had no idea about what to say. In the end she decided to leave with some semblance of civility.

"I apologize for my intrusion. Have a good day, Spectre Arterius."

As she turned away, she froze. Standing fairly nearby was a tall, dark skinned human wearing the uniform of their military. Saren studied her intently, the minbari woman had always been strangely inquisitive towards the humans. Even some of the other Spectres and the STG had noted it but no one knew why. After a few seconds Delenn resumed walking and nodded her head in acknowledgment of the man's presence, with him returning the favor.

As she started down the stairs and back towards the plaza and the Presidium proper, the human and turian turned to regard one another. As the human walked forward, Saren nodded a greeting.

"Anderson, it's been a while. How are you?"

In return Anderson threw a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing towards where Delenn had gone. "I feel like I should be asking you that. You don't normally let your emotions get the better of you."

Saren sighed in resignation. _Of course_ Anderson had seen that outburst. He'd probably heard the whole thing. "It has been a long day and it's not even at the halfway point." Saren rubbed a clawed hand over his scalp in exhaustion. "I apologize. That outburst was… unbecoming."

Anderson simply shook his head and gently hit Saren's good shoulder with his hand. "You don't have to apologize to me. What the minbari did, it boggles the mind. I'm still shocked the Hierarchy hasn't tried to close their embassy. Even if it has been a decade since the war wounds like that…" Anderson lowered his head for a moment, clearly remembering something far different than the turian war with the minbari. "Don't go away so easily."

Saren nodded his head silently, thinking of the reports he'd read on the Dilgar Invasion and the bioweapons they had unleashed. Some of the images and medical reports turned the stomachs of even hardened soldiers and the most dispassionate scientists. As they both turned to walk towards the Spectre Office Saren decided to redirect the conversation to something less morbid.

"You're awfully far from Alliance space. I thought you would be in the Terminus or the Frontier. Or with that Sanders. What brings you here?"

Anderson chuckled good naturedly. "Officially, I'm on leave as of two hours ago. I hitched a ride aboard the Agamemnon and her battle group. They came here escorting a merchant fleet from the League. Now they're headed to link up with a few other groups over in the Lenal System for some war games and fleet maneuvers with the turian forces there."

Saren nodded his head. He'd heard about that. He and Anderson were aware of a number of things the two galactic powers were doing to further relations and secure joint interests. Like what happened with Elanus Risk Control in the Alliance's backyard.

As they stopped in front of the armored door to the Spectre Office, the V.I. scanned and logged the both of them for entry.

Anderson continued. "Also officially, since you got that fancy asari upgrade for your human-built arm, I was asked by Alliance R&D that you fill out this data-tablet regarding any problems for future maintenance and the like."

Saren turned his head to stare at his friend blankly.

"Identity confirmed. Captain David Anderson. You are not allowed access without an escort." the V.I. droned.

Saren looked down at the data-tablet and saw the small text at the bottom: PAGE 1 OF 37. Then looked back up at Anderson's beaming smile and wide-eyed, innocent face.

"I hate you."

"Identity confirmed. Spectre Saren Arterius. Access granted."

Saren snatched the tablet out of Anderson's hands and immediately began tapping away at the datapad, hoping to get it done as quickly as possible.

As they walked towards Saren's office Anderson took a few glances around the Office to see which other Spectres were in. He was fairly certain he had seen Jondum over at the firing range. He'd stop over for a quick greeting before he went back to his room down in Zakera Ward. The intel-minded STG and the telepathic Ghosts were usually antagonistic to each other so it was good to try and foster some decent feelings if he could. Maybe he'd give Jondum another book to give to his nephew. Who knew Encyclopedia Brown would make such a comeback among salarian children?

As Saren took a seat behind his desk Anderson sat down in the metal, supposedly ergonomic chair.

'_The hell it is.'_

Anderson's attention was brought back to his friend as the turian spoke. "You said officially. What is the unofficial reason you're here? The Citadel is a nice place to relax if you're into expensive entertainment," Saren snorted. He clearly had a low opinion on said entertainment. "But I know you. Why visit me- why visit the _Spectres_- under the guise of vacation?"

Anderson sighed. Saren, with all of his dedication to duty, would never fully believe that he _had_ come to the Citadel to simply unwind. He was right that there was a second reason, and he would get to it, but it was still just that. Secondary.

"Saren, I really did come by to say hello to you and some of the others. I _am_ friends with some of you, amazing as that may be." Saren rolled his eyes, but continued to blaze through the forms. "But since you're in a business sort of mood, I'll humor you. I have another message and more work for you to do."

Saren took his eyes off the screen and stared straight at Anderson. If looks could kill…

Anderson let a teasing lilt enter his voice. "I thought I'd be doing you a favor letting it sit for a while, but I suppose I could push up the timetable since you're so dedicated."

"_David_."

Oh. Saren must have been under more stress than he thought. He hadn't heard this tone since that screw up in the Terminus a few years back with the squad of commandos. He almost felt sorry for those girls. While rare, most sapients couldn't survive one of Saren's rages.

Anderson decided to cut out the bantering and got on with business. He had to make sure that that Saren understood it wasn't an immediate issue though.

"Alright, alright. Calm down. It's not something to be taken care of right away. The Alliance wants you and me to start looking for ground team candidates. The Council will be getting a briefing on this in a few weeks, once the research teams are certain this isn't a false start."

Saren seemed placated but his brows were furrowed in thought. "A ground team for what?"

Anderson leaned back in his chair. "R&D made a breakthrough. 'And Then There Were None' is moving forward."

Saren blinked once. Then twice. "A breakthrough? How soon?"

Anderson gave a noncommittal shrug. "Barring any major setbacks, fifteen to eighteen months. The Alliance wants a Spectre -you-, a commanding officer -me-, a telepath, and at least four others. STG, Blackwatch, Ghost, Spectre, commando, they don't care. The brass isn't being picky with candidates, but once the time comes to actually choose…" Anderson shook his head slowly. "They want the best, and they want people who can get the job done. And be quiet about it." He threw in almost as an afterthought.

Saren rolled the idea in his head. _If_ a working ship could be rolled out, if the Citadel and League could destabilize what was happening outside their territories, they might be able to head off what so many feared was coming.

The galaxy was mostly at peace, but tensions were rising in more areas than the superpowers wanted. The centauri were moving through the Verge, angering both the batarians and the local warlords. With those warlords banding together and gearing for possible attacks, their rivals were doing the same. The Hegemony was quickly tiring of the failed pirate campaigns, and just might risk open conflict with the Centauri Republic. Aria was building up forces to defend against any possible incursion. The streib, a highly xenophobic species, was out moving again and attacking outlying colonies.

'_The only good thing to come out of the minbari is the information they give concerning their little corner of space.'_ Saren thought spitefully.

And then there were the rumors. Normally Saren did not put much weight to tall tales… but there were things the Spectres and STG were hearing that were incredibly unsettling.

There were rumors coming out of the Terminus that Collectors were moving in numbers never before seen. Dilgar ships were being spotted outside their space for the first time in decades. The quarians were slowly but surely gearing up for what was likely a campaign to retake their homeworld, an act that would only result in the Migrant Fleet's destruction and provoke the geth. The problem was the quarians were fielding weapons that no race had seen before and no one knew where the technology was coming from.

The galaxy was rumbling and many didn't like it.

Anderson's subdued voice interrupted his line of thought. "The Navy sees the writing on the wall. If we can undermine the factions involved we might be able to stop a dozen wars before they start."

And that was David Anderson. If you could prevent war, then you had to take the chance. It also didn't help that much of the League, the Alliance included, still had its attention focused inward. The death tolls from the Dilgar Invasion had been immense and even with the economic and population booms that followed in the years since much of the Orion Arm was a still rebuilding graveyard.

Saren nodded his head. His own opinions were mixed; undermining the regional powers would likely just postpone the wars and not actually prevent any of them. But letting their enemies go to war and build up fleets meant the Citadel could be facing a unified Terminus or a battle-tested batarian or centauri military.

None of the options were good. Still, this only mattered if the ship worked as advertised…

Saren clasped his hands together. "You are certain the technology works? That the Alliance has developed…" His mouth went dry. This could be the edge needed to counter any future minbari aggression. "…has developed a working stealth system."

Anderson nodded. "Full stealth. Thermal, laser, radar, tachyon, even optical scanners. Nothing's gotten so much as a blip so far."

Saren's mandibles slowly flexed inward and outward, a sign Anderson knew meant he was in deep thought. "We have a lot of work ahead of us."

David gave a deep sigh as let his head drop, gazing at the floor.

"Yes. Yes we do."

Damn it. He really was supposed to be on vacation.

* * *

><p>Presidium, Embassy Plaza Courtyard<p>

Delenn of Mir sat alone by the artificial lake in front of her people's embassy. For all the beauty and culture that surrounded her she could not have felt more despondent.

More than that, she felt alone.

The Citadel Council had, once again, denied her attempts at attaining colonization and trading rights within the boundaries of Citadel Space. Then they had denied her attempts at allowing a minbari into Citadel Security. It was not entirely the Citadel Councilor's fault. The other members of the Grey Council were only giving token efforts to encourage participation in galactic society. They continually hampered her efforts with what she could and could not authorize for the Federation.

'_Is this all that is out here for our people? Is this what I wrought?'_

In her heart, she blamed both councils. The Citadel was wary of them and rightfully so. The minbari had never fully explained why they had gone to war with such brutality and had never spoken of the death of Dukhat and what he had meant to their people. The Grey Council looked upon the Citadel races with scorn, believing them inferior when compared to the achievements and culture of the minbari.

Though her gaze was focused on the rippling water in front of her, she was aware of how the sapients around her made sure they did not come too close. Even those in a hurry to some meeting or other gave her bench a wide berth. No one on the Citadel wanted anything to do with a minbari. The idea of associating with a race guilty of attempted genocide had nearly killed all chances of normalcy in galactic affairs.

'_Is this our future? To stand apart from all others?'_

The turians hated her species with a passion, the volus had no interest in a government that barely traded, and the salarians were focused on their own pursuits. Even Tevos, the only one of the Councilors who seemed willing to _try_ was hindered by the Minbari Federation's unwillingness to compromise.

Even the markab and the abbai, the few races who knew of her people's honor and virtue had distanced themselves. The wounds from the dilgar were still too raw and the actions of the Warrior Caste were far too similar to the feline race's. The humans, the race who the vorlons spoke of as great allies, had listened to their peers and wanted nothing to do with the Federation.

For a thousand years the Grey Council had said the affairs of others were not their concern. It was a bitter irony that the galaxy seemed to feel the same.

"-run that is not my branch. I'm Investigations not Enforcement and I am not giving up my lunch break to do your job."

Delenn look to the side, that voice was much closer than she expected.

Standing at the side of the bench, with his eyes on his omni-tool and his attention clearly somewhere else, stood a turian C-Sec officer. His plates were grey and his face bore deep blue markings, all while wearing the blue and black uniform of his profession. He raised his head for a moment and looked out across the water while listening to the other end.

"Karun, I have seen brakiri and volus fight. The most dangerous things thrown are interest rates. That does not need my attention."

He paused again and then slumped almost dramatically as he shifted his gaze to the floor. "Noooo_._ Deal with it. I don't care what the bar owner says. He's exaggerating."

Delenn couldn't help but let a small smile form on her face. Yes, a brakiri and volus arguing was not something to worry over.

"You want to complain to Pallin? Be my guest. I'd love to see his reaction to giving your duties to someone else. It'll be great watching him yell at someone who isn't me."

She smiled wider, wondering at just what kind of relationship this turian had with his fellows.

"Yes, thank you. Good bye." Finally the officer sat down at the bench and opened a small pouch to pull out a slice of some kind of cooked meat. Only then did he seem to notice her, with a piece of his lunch halfway to his mouth.

Delenn simply continued smiling at him for a few moments, and then turn her head back towards the water. "A long day, officer?"

The turian took a moment to finish putting the food in his mouth and swallowing. "Detective Vakarian. Garrus Vakarian. Pleased to meet you, ambassador. Yes, it has been a long day."

She wasn't entirely certain he _was_ pleased to meet her considering how stiff he was compared to just a minute ago. But at least he hadn't simply gotten up and left. She tried to continue the conversation "It seems that most days on this station are like that."

Garrus shook his head slightly and widened his mandibles. "You have no idea."

Delenn once again set her eyes on the turian sitting next her. She had nowhere to be, and he was apparently on his break…

"How about, Detective, I share my worst day on this station, and you offer your own? We can compare just how miserable we are." She smiled at him, hope that he would have someone other than Lennier to talk to. Even if it was just for a short while.

Garrus looked at her and then at his meal. Then he chuckled. "Alright, but I _sincerely_ doubt you can top my absolute worst day in C-Sec."

Even if their species hated each other, even if she could not fully forgive the death of Dukhat she could at least try to make amends with the race she had wronged. Delenn had seen turian honor and discipline in her time on the Citadel. She had seen what the Warrior Caste refused to see in the turians and the humans.

Even if it took years she could lay the foundations for something more than bitterness. She could show the galaxy the true face and culture of the minbari. She could try to maintain this peace when so many seemed to want war.

If she couldn't… she didn't know how the younger races would stop the Shadows. She didn't know how the _minbari_ would stop them.

* * *

><p>Zakera Ward<p>

Officer Karun walked into the tavern were the fight had been reported by the owner. There didn't seem to be a crowd or a lack of one, as was usually the case. As he entered he immediately noticed the large grouping of volus and brakiri.

The two races could not have been more similar or more different. With the squat, rounded volus in their environment suits compared to the short, thin figures in sophisticated business suits.

As a species the brakiri were neither large nor very strong. Their elongated arms ended in two long, clawed fingers and a thumb. Their dominating facial features were the large nostrils and pronounced bone ridges on the sides the face. Their eyes were small and beady and their ears large and pointed.

Tearing his eyes away from the huddle of brakiri and volus he went over the bartender at the counter.

"Did you call in the public disturbance? There doesn't seem to be any problem. Or have things calmed down since you reported it?"

The volus behind the counter looked at him, and he _knew_ the volus wasn't going to make his job any easier.

"'Calmed down'? Don't you see this?" He gestured over at the gathering of patrons "- hiss-shhh - You have to do something before things get _really_ bad!"

Karun gazed at the owner for a long moment and then turned his attention to the so called fight.

A volus near the center of the group raised a tiny hand and pointed at one of the brakiri. "I'll match the initial sum and add a 1.31 percent APR."

Karun stared.

The brakiri broke out into mutterings and many of them spoke together while quick, high-pitched sounds were released from some of the more vocal members. One of them stepped forward. "You dare-"

The volus did not seem to be intimidated "I dare!"

The other volus seemed to be congratulating their partner while the brakiri continued to confer amongst themselves.

Karun stared harder.

* * *

><p>Codex: The Star League<p>

The successor to the now defunct League of Non-Aligned Worlds, the Star League is the dominant power in the Orion Arm. Its primary governing body, the League Assembly, is located at Babylon; a jointly constructed station situated near the geographic center of the Leagues' various member territories.

Its foundations were laid during the Dilgar Invasion. When the dilgar discovered mass effect technology, the aggressive race launched a rapid series of offensives against the LONAW races and the Systems Alliance. The failure to respond to the dilgar assaults and a lack of coordination among the member races nearly resulted in their defeat, highlighting the failings and shortcomings of the original LONAW. To turn the tide against the dilgar the allied powers were forced to deepen economic, military, and political ties between each other. Shortly before the dilgar agreed to a ceasefire, the Bond of the Star League was signed by nearly a dozen interstellar governments including the Human Systems Alliance, the Abbai Matriarchate, the Brakiri Syndicracy, and the Drazi Freehold.

Following a peaceful first contact the Star League and the Citadel have both benefited greatly from the new sources of trade, technology, and colonization space. Relations between the two superpowers are warm despite occasional points of contention.

Codex: The Turian-Minbari War

Lasting from 2265 to 2267, the conflict began when a turian patrol group fired upon minbari vessels investigating the 314 Relay. What the turians initially believed to be a police action against a species violating Citadel law turned into full scale war.

The minbari began a genocidal campaign against the turians which inflicted heavy losses on both sides. Turian numbers and tactics were opposed with the superior technology of the minbari. Several turian colonies were destroyed by orbiting warships after the minbari's ground campaigns stalled against the well trained and armed citizenry.

The minbari received their first true defeat in the war when a turian fleet made a pinpoint FTL jump into the middle of a Sharlin fleet. The ploy used the Sharlin's larger size against them while the short range nullified their powerful ECM technology. The minbari assault fleet was completely destroyed, but the turian forces also suffered crippling losses.

Despite the Turian Hierarchy's desire to begin an offensive after discovering the minbari's home systems, the war was finally brought to an end diplomatically. The Star League sued the minbari for peace and, knowing the combined might of the Citadel was ready to deploy against them, the Federation agreed to a peace treaty.

* * *

><p>AN: I'm going to address the tech difference issues. My idea is that the jumpgates in the Orion Arm discovered by the races there had massive and equally advanced power capacitors. It was the study of these capacitors that allowed the local races to store and channel the huge amounts of energy needed for plasma and particle weapons, as well as tearing a <em>god damn hole<em> through space-time. The citadel races on the other hand had the mass relays and prothean ruins. This led them to various new alloys, mass effect applications, and much more efficient space exploration. The citadel _would_ have eventually created the same capacitors, but they were still a good deal away from developing them. Once the Citadel got hold of several new technologies from the League and other powers, the scientists went "ooooh, that's how". And then they started refitting their fleets.

The dilgar are still around. They revealed new mass effect technology in the middle of the war that let them blitzkrieg the crap out of the League and Alliance fleets. Only the discovery of the prothean archives and the heavy deployment of drones –they are immune to plagues- saved humanity's front lines from completely collapsing. Some dilgar strikes managed to bypass allied fleets and strike the Alliance home systems, inflicting heavy civilian losses and gaining the hatred of humanity. Mass effect drives let the Imperium evacuate huge sections of Omelos before the star went nova. That scares the living hell out of just about everyone, _since novas make element zero._

Everyone is colonizing and exploring. The daily humdrum of galactic life that the Citadel had fallen into was torn away by the minbari and then the discovery of a rival power. They were reminded that space is _big_ and unknown and have responded accordingly. The turians are studying new weapons and defensive technology. The asari are tapping the Athame Beacon and opening up old projects that once made Matriarchs laugh the blue off their asses. The salarians are looking at _everything_.

And in case anyone was wondering, the volus were given a Council seat at the end of the minbari war for keeping the galactic economy from diving in the face of a vicious campaign run by a technologically superior enemy, for stepping up their commitment of warships and supplies, and financing aid and reconstruction for the turians.

Timeline changes:

World War III 2084-2088

Human Civil War 2224-2227

Dilgar Invasion 2259-2264 (Alliance joins 2261)

Turian-Minbari War 2265-2267

League and Citadel First Contact 2267

Current Date (Prologue) 2281

First Arc (Mass Effect 1) 2283

For clarity, the minbari do not have a true embassy on the Citadel. They are not members of either the Citadel or the League. They have honorary embassies on both the Citadel and Babylon, but they have minimal input into their workings.


	3. Unexpected Visitors Unwelcome

AN: Longer note at the bottom. Previous readers will notice I changed from using terran to human. I talked it over with a few people and made the change. It's more consistent with the human backstory. I'll explain in another AN as the one for this chapter is big enough.

Therum, 2282

It was a slow day on the planet Therum. Or as slow as any day could be on the rapidly growing mining colony.

Nova Yekaterinburg was the only real city on the planet and every mining facility, research station, and survey outpost was linked to it through a mag-lev monorail system. One of those monorails was linked to the Eldfell-Ashland Mining Station and from there a half-finished road could be taken to the prothean excavation site. Though it was a several hour trip to get back to the city proper, it was as easy as getting on a rover and the train.

It was that same easy transit which had put her… here. Neletha was supposedly _the_ bar to go to on the planet. Though the rest of the University sponsored team had come here many times and dragged her along she never quite felt comfortable in it. She had never been to many bars but this one seemed especially dingy.

Liara sighed to herself. She sat alone at the bar sipping what the humans called a 'virgin pina colada'. It tasted sweet and was nonalcoholic. Many of her fellow researchers and students were clustered around one of the game tables with drinks of their own.

She didn't recognize the game they were playing this trip but it involved thin, whippy wooden sticks, hitting heavy balls with the sticks, hitting their _hands_ with the sticks, and taking drinks whenever someone 'lost'. Which was often.

She guessed it was a drazi game.

She frowned. She had never found the idea of getting drunk appealing, instead choosing to politely sit out and talk to anyone who decided to take a break from the game. She didn't like alcohol and she wished that one of her coworkers would figure it out and join her rather than just try again and again to convince her to take part in their games.

Behind the counter was a human named Jeb, though if it was a nickname or his real one Liara still didn't know. But whenever the team would come to the city the man was there with a smile and a tray of drinks for them. Liara had heard some people mention an old asari who also worked at the bar but Liara had never managed to catch a glimpse of her.

Another cheer went up among her fellow students as Kallo, a salarian technical specialist, managed to win. Liara knew nothing about the game or how he won so she just clapped halfheartedly.

When she was sure everyone's attention had moved on to starting another round Liara turned up the volume on the vid-screen with a flicker of her biotics. Though she had never focused on practicing her talents like many asari did, she knew she was above average in skill and strength. But she didn't want to be known for that. She didn't even want to be known, really. She just wanted to _discover_.

On the screen was a ship. Its massive hull was a pearly white with lilac colored sections following the contours of the vessel. Nearly four kilometers long with a smooth, flowing form it looked like it swam through the black.

It was an asari exploration ship. The first of its kind… and Liara could not help but wish she was there.

A round of 'oohs' went up at the table. Some more humans had gathered around to watch.

Instead she was here.

She focused her attention on the words as the racket of the bar tried to drown it out.

"The asari exploration ship _Vasarel_ will hold some of the best and brightest minds of the Asari Republics. Its voyage will take it beyond known space in an attempt to locate ancient prothean worlds and catalogue numerous scientific phenomena. Captained by Matriarch-"

Jeb leaned into her line of sight, cutting off the images of the ship's interior. Liara leaned backwards as the man held up a holo-pic. Like always it was a picture of his daughter, Caroline. "Did I tell you about my little girl? Looks just like her mother, she does. She's on Ceti Gamma now working on those new batteries. Very important stuff, but I can't understand it."

Liara had no idea how she had learned so much about an alien she had never actually met, but it had happened. The girl was twenty-four and had recently graduated from Heliopolis University with a doctorate in organic technology. She liked thai food, whatever that was, and spent much of her time studying various lifeforms for inspiration for her work. She had been hired by the Systems Alliance to work at a government-run lab that was apparently well regarded by humans.

"Yes, Jeb. You showed me the last time I was here. I'm sure you're very proud of her." Liara said to him. She smiled politely.

"I did, didn't I? Yes, I'm so proud. Wasn't easy putting her through school. Needed me and my in-law to pay for but she was so _gifted_."

Liara couldn't bring herself to blame the man for showing her a picture of his daughter every time the Serrice University group came in. She supposed he was just one of the doting types of parents. She had often thought of asking where his wife was but since he had never mentioned the woman by name or where she currently was she didn't feel comfortable asking. Liara had been given a crash course in human interaction since her arrival on Therum and she didn't want to touch a possibly sensitive topic.

They were interrupted from their conversation as a short-haired man in uniform came up to the bar. Though he was still wearing a badged jacket, it was unbuttoned and loose. The emblem on the jacket's sleeve represented Alliance Security.

"I'll take a Sinzar Slow-Down."

The bartender took a long look at the chief of security. The man would never drink while on duty and a Sinzar Slow-Down wasn't a particularly strong beverage. Even so the bartender knew that the Alliance officer had something of an alcohol problem. More than once the man had shown up to work with the scent of liquor on his breath. While the drinking never seemed to interfere with his abilities more than a few people worried that the habit would come around to bite him.

"You sure, Chief?"

Michael Garibaldi let out a slow, soft breath. "Yes, Jeb. Yes, I'm sure. I'm gonna be working my butt off the next few days so I want to get a drink and some sleep before the rush."

Jeb raised an eyebrow. "What's happening the next few days? I haven't heard anything."

"The _Marco Polo_ just dropped the last beacon in hyperspace for the Athens system and now it's on the way here. Good news is the whole cluster is connected to the network. Bad news is I have to deal with an extra thousand people who've been cooped up on a ship for six weeks. They're staying till they're restocked and the colony's going to house some of them."

Liara's eyes widened. She knew that name. She knew the name of almost every exploration ship. The _Marco Polo_ was one of the newer human Explorers, commissioned to link star systems together through the hyperspace beacons.

"Umm. Ex-excuse me." Liara broke in. She looked at his rank, but had no idea how to tell what the small symbols meant on his uniform. "Sir?"

The short-haired man looked her. He put on a smile but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yes?"

"You said the _Marco Polo_ is coming here? When is it supposed to arrive?"

Michael rubbed his temples in thought. "Uh… about six hours." He looked back to the bartender. "So I'd like a drink before then. Please."

As Jeb nodded and pulled out a glass, Liara quickly left her seat and headed over to Kallo. She was fairly certain he had the access codes to the shuttle.

"What was that about?" Garibaldi asked the bartender.

Jeb shrugged. "Thinks Explorers are the best thing since smart-glue. Wants to find the prothean homeworld and those Explorers are her best bet. Least that's what dayshift tells me."

Garibaldi raised his eyebrows, skeptical at such an ambition. He shook his head as Jeb went to put together his drink. "Find the prothean homeworld. Good luck to that." He said sarcastically.

* * *

><p>If she had been honest with herself Liara would admit to having expected something like this. She didn't know how to fly the shuttle herself and needed someone to pilot it. She wasn't even sure how to request <em>clearance<em> to take off at the human space port. She just wished it had been someone other than Rathus. An overbearing female turian at the best of times, Liara made it a point to stay out of her way.

She preferred to work in peace rather than deal with the boisterous girl.

"So how'd you hear about the _Marco Polo_ arriving? I mean I'm glad you did, you're just kind of a shut-in so I'm surprised."

If only Rathus shared that same courtesy.

"I talk to loads more people and I didn't hear about it."

Liara's eye twitched. This was why she avoided the female turian as much as she could.

"Really, we had to drag you out of the excavation site. You wanted to sit there and study an antenna tower."

Liara frowned. Just because they hadn't reached the actual structure yet didn't mean there was nothing to learn. "I heard about from a human in the bar. Jeb called him… Chief, I think."

"Chief? Like… Gunnery Chief, Service Chief, Chief Chief, what Chief?"

The asari sighed. "He had a security badge on his arm. So, Security Chief." That was a human rank. Right?

"You mean Head of Security."

'_Isn't that what I said?'_ Liara thought.

"And wait. Wait, wait, wait. You talked to _Michael Garibaldi_? Aww. I've been wanting to meet him so bad but I keep missing him." Rathus moaned in frustration.

Liara was puzzled. "Speak with him? Why?" The man had seemed like a normal human as far as she could tell.

Rathus took her eyes off the instruments for a long moment to stare at the asari. "You really need to get out more."

"I- what?"

Rathus exhaled deeply as she returned to starting up the shuttle. "He's like a legend. A _hero_. Twice over. Nearly every human knows his name. So do a lot of aliens for what he pulled off."

Liara stared forward and tried not to sigh in exasperation. Rathus had a bizarre fascination with people who survived events that had killed others. From the centauri trailblazer who had stayed alive for a month on Nakaleen to the Spectre who had supposedly outwitted a Justicar. The female turian loved stories like those even if some of the characters tended to die horribly. She also _shared_ those stories. Often.

Liara was spared from listening to another morbid story when Rathus activated the shuttle's engines as they were given clearance to take off.

Without hesitation the turian gunned the shuttle's engines as the mass effect field lifted them off the landing pad. Far faster than Liara felt comfortable with the shuttle rocketed upwards to the darkness above.

There was an awkward silence in the shuttle as Rathus focused on the equipment and flight path and Liara struggled to make conversation.

"So… Explorers aren't exactly exciting to most people. Why did you decide to come along? Kallo was willing to pilot if you didn't want to be here."

"What, are you kidding me? Liara, do you even _know_ what my major is?"

Liara stuttered for a moment. Rathus was brash, domineering, and confrontational. She never hesitated before making her opinion known in her usually gruff manner. Liara's avoidance of her meant she had very little idea what the turian actually _did_.

"Something with… buildings."

Rathus rolled her eyes. "I'm a structural engineer with a sub-degree in advanced materials. You're the one who figures out what the buildings were made for. I'm the one who figures out how they were made. So yeah, Explorers are awesome. Seventy million tons and six kilometers of heavy engineering. Did you know you can fit an old Val'Kon dreadnought inside the construction bay? You know the salarians are building some of their own models?"

Liara didn't manage an answer before Rathus continued.

"They've got five already out with a ten more slated. All small enough for-"

Liara was finally shocked enough to respond. "You- How do _you_ know about that? I listen to everything about the exploration vessels the governments are building and I haven't heard anything about the salarians."

Rathus leaned over the seat and her mandibles flared into a sly smile. "Because they're salarians and they like being sneaky." She half-joked.

Liara stared at her coworker in disbelief.

"What? I don't know. I was lucky to hear about it at all." Rathus defended. "They've sent out five and no one knows where they've gone. Tell me that doesn't sound like standard salarian spy stuff."

"It doesn't sound like salarian spy stuff." Liara responded promptly. "I swear it's like you believe in every stereotype you hear. Salarians are all secretly STG. Turians are all good soldiers. Humans are all busybody telepaths and centauri are slave-happy maniacs."

"Everything you just said is absolutely true." The turian deadpanned.

"Ugh!"

There was silence in the cockpit for a long minute as they approached the jumpgate.

Rathus finally broke it by saying. "What were we arguing about?"

Liara managed to hold back her initial response and composed herself. "Something silly. I'm sorry. I'm just… more reserved than you are. I didn't think like you'd be interested in ships that mostly just chart deep space. I guess I'm just surprised someone like you is interested in the same thing I am."

Rathus raised her hands in the near-universal sign of 'what'. "The hell does _that_ mean?"

Liara was spared putting her foot in her mouth anymore as the jumpgate flared to life.

Streaks of energy flare out from the struts and met at the center of the gate. Space bulged and collapsed. A spiraling vortex of brilliant blue extended from the event horizon of the jump point and into realspace.

At the center of the entry into the alternate dimension the _Marco Polo_ emerged. The massive construction bay and sensor towers jutting forward were the first visible sections of the ship followed by a latticed framework holding endless cargo containers and assembly equipment. After that came the kilometer-long rotating section and the equally massive reactor segment with its attached radiator fins. In the vast stretch between the middle and end of the craft was more framework with more storage for food, water and fuel. After nearly five and a half kilometers of spaceship the massive engines could be found pushing the enormous craft forward.

As the vessel passed by the miniscule personnel transport Liara stared almost longingly. She was only broken out of her staring as Rathus maneuvered their craft to follow alongside the vessel.

"Hey. You think they'll give us a tour?" The turian asked.

Liara blinked at the sudden question before smiling. "We have to try. If takes some time for them to agree... well… I'll admit I'm curious. What did you say the human was famous for?"

* * *

><p>Vega System, 2262<p>

"Hey Toombs! Get up here and take a look at these readings. I'm getting some weird responses from the weather station on the far side of the planet." The voice of their fellow marine Colleen, also known as Cowpoke, hollered down from the top command room of the outpost.

Garibaldi chuckled as Toombs got out of his seat and made his way towards the stairwell. His colleague shouted back up. "It's not a planet, it's a moon!"

The tiny base on the moon of Vega II was part of StarWatch's massive network of hyperspace listening outposts, tachyon detectors, deep space probes and automated surveillance drone-ships. Arrayed across much of the Alliance's territory, it was considered impossible for any ship to sneak into human space without using the monitored hyperspace network.

The outpost consisted of single 'control tower' with a tachyon communicator, a small cluster of sealed buildings in the underground surrounding its base, and a sturdy bunker at the perimeter in case of an attack. It was also used if the main complex became exposed to the searing hot temperatures outside.

Most of the actual detection equipment was on the fringe of the star system, allowing advanced warning in case any ship was detected approaching.

As part of cost cutting measures all the moon's detection equipment, even that not part of StarWatch, were routed to the facility. That meant getting regular reports about weather, geological activity, and the occasional civilian ship that landed so its crew could feel some gravity or get a quick tan.

There were was another team but the long shifts they pulled generally meant that the two groups spoke little to each other. Ruiz, a fulltime member of StarWatch, had worked at outposts such as this for over a decade. Though he wasn't the highest rank present, his seniority and knowledge of the equipment gave him some authority.

As Toombs came back down Ruiz questioned him. "Any problems? I know the seismic gauges get finicky sometimes. It told me the building was about to come down on my head once. Scared the crap outta me."

Toombs shrugged as he answered. "Nothing special. Huge lightning storm on the far side of the moon. She was just confused 'cus the station over there isn't picking up any clouds. Had to remind her there aren't any on this rock."

Ruiz's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he scratched his forehead. "A lightning storm? This moon is a desert. You can't get lightning storms without dust storms, man. The station should be picking that up."

Toombs took a bite out of his sandwich before speaking. "Huh? Look, I'm just telling you the sensors say huge amounts of lightning and the skies are clear. Electromagnetic and flash detectors are picking up lightning and there is no sign of dust clouds. I can read the equipment, Ruiz."

"And I'm telling you, you can't have one without the other. There's not enough moisture in the sky to hold a charge and there's not enough of a temperature gradient. I've been working this moon for three damn years. I know what I'm talking about." Ruiz argued.

"Shut up, both of you." Service Chief Chan, the officer in charge of the base, rubbed his bald scalp. "Alright, prep a probe for launch. If Ruiz says it's impossible then it probably is. Let's get some eyes on it. Probably something is just broken out there but there might be a real problem."

Though there was a communal groan the squad went to it. Garibaldi, Ruiz, and Toombs went to pick up an R-Class probe and load it into the launch tube. Chan moved up to the command tower to join Cowpoke.

The R-class probes were designed to be fired from the surface into low orbit and automatically tapped into a planet's communications satellites. Equipped with a rocket for flight, a variety of sensor equipment and a nose-mounted camera, they were used across the Alliance for long range surveys.

In less than fifteen minutes the three soldiers had moved through the underground hallways to the missile section and loaded the small rocket into its silo. The loading zone was underground and electromagnetic rails slid the probe upwards into the turreted launch platform above the surface. With a few short commands Chan put in the target zone and the probe was on its way.

As the trio made their way back to the main cluster of rooms Toombs grumbled to the others. "We should be out there fighting the cat-Nazis, not back here figuring out the weather."

Garibaldi responded. "Somebody's gotta watch the back door. You ever hear about the narn? When we were fighting them at the Epsilon systems? They tried to make a secret hyperspace route into the Indi system to attack our guys from behind. Managed to stop them, sure, but that could've been bad."

Despite their early argument, Ruiz seemed to agree with Toombs. "Yeah, but we've got hyperspace sensors everywhere now. Kinda dumb that we're here. Except for you. Didn't you get shot in the ass on Tiree?"

Garibaldi was instantly on the defensive. "No. I got hit in the leg."

He had been in the military for barely a year before the Dilgar War broke out. The only battle he had actually taken part in was the liberation of Tiree. He had, in fact, been hit by shrapnel deep in his gluteus maximus and sent back to an Alliance hospital to recover. By the time he had been healed the fleets had moved on and he had been stationed to the very edge of Alliance space on border duty.

"Not what I heard." Cowpoke smirked at him as they walked into the command tower. A blonde from the outskirts of the Texan Megapolis, Colleen was probably the only one on the entire moon who got along with everyone else. It _might_ have had something to do her home-style cooking that she made for the lot of them. Even with limited supplies the meals were excellent.

As they took their seats Chan threw up the information from the probe as it started to come in. The signal strengthened and the static faded on the vid-feed. The probe crossed thousands of miles and stabilized its flight once it reached low orbit.

The group watched the monitors with dull anticipation. Toombs had gone back to eating his sandwich.

Cowpoke decided to make conversation. "You guys hear about the find they made on Mars? The alien ruins?"

"We all get the same news, Colleen." Chan spoke from his workstation.

"I'm just sayin'. It's what? The third group of alien buildings we've found there?" She gestured grandly. "Mars. You wanna get out so bad, you'll leave all your crap." Colleen laughed.

Garibaldi looked at her. "You know I live on Mars, right?"

She raised an eyebrow and smiled challengingly. "You gonna tell me I'm wrong?"

"No. Just wanted to tell you I'm surprised a Texan knows something _not_ about Texas."

"Cowpoke got prodded!" Ruiz taunted. Toombs and Chan both smiled at the conversation.

Toombs took another bite as the probe finally crossed the curvature of the planet keeping the lightning storm hidden. The image and data started to stream in earnest. The video feed finally stabilized into something discernible.

He stopped chewing. The sandwich dropped from his fingers.

Ruiz made a sign of the cross where he was sitting.

Garibaldi stared dumbly.

Colleen finally spoke. "That's… that's not real is it?" Her voice was trembling.

It was a dilgar fleet. Though not one of the massive Strike Fleets of the Imperium, there were still dozens of warships on the screen. Continuous streaks of lightning were coming down from the cluster of ships, creating a display as beautiful as it was intimidating. One of the ship's lightning strikes slowed before stopping. The camera could barely make out its engines flaring in activation.

Chief Chan snapped into action. "Colleen, wake up the others. Ruiz, patch us into StellarCom. No, set us up on StellarCom _and_ on a general broadcast. Make sure the whole system hears it." If there were dilgar ships here, there was no way to be sure the StellarCom beacons hadn't been disrupted or destroyed. "Toombs, monitor them. Garibaldi, transmit what's happening. Tell the Alliance _now_."

In seconds the team was moving.

"Dilgar, dilgar, dilgar! Get up! Get up!" Cowpoke shouted to the day crew still in their bunks. She was yelling even as she ran down the stairs.

Toombs forwarded a data packet to Garibaldi's station. In seconds he was broadcasting across every channel through the tachyon network and to the other planets of Vega System. If Vega II's communication buoys were down, the other planets would pick up the signal shortly and forward the message.

The data packet was being sent repeatedly while Garibaldi spoke into the comms. "StarWatch Post 219 to everyone listening, we have dilgar inside Vega System. I repeat: dilgar warships _are in Vega System_. We are counting over fifteen pentacons, all capital ships. Forward this message to Alliance forces. I say again-"

Garibaldi heard Toombs shout from behind him. "That Targrath class is breaking from formation! It just shot down the probe!" A beat. "Lost contact with a comm satellite! It's heading towards us oh god…"

Chan quickly questioned. "Are we still broadcasting?"

Ruiz checked. "Yeah, we're still going but they've started to jam us. I don't think they have any ELINT ships though, jamming's pretty weak…"

Toombs cut him off. "Dammit another satellite just went down! That thing's gonna be in range soon!"

"Ok. Garibaldi, I'll take over transmitting. You all need to get everyone and get to the bunker." Chan ordered. For a moment no one moved. They didn't want to leave anyone behind. "Go!" He shouted.

Obeying their commanding officer the group ran down the stairs and entered the long tunnel to the sealed shelter. Chan took Garibaldi's seat and continued the broadcast, trying to boost the signal as much as possible against the dilgar's jamming.

Just as the two squads of marines closed the blast door to the bunker the Targrath Strike Cruiser crossed the horizon. A single bolter round erupted from the prow of the ship. It streaked through the sky, creating a superheated shockwave along its trail. The atmosphere managed to sap some of the energy away from the round and reduced its destructive ability, but it wasn't enough. The single particle bolt struck the edge of the outpost. Molten glass and stone were thrown outwards from the impact zone.

Even within the safety of the sealed bunker, the ground heaved and the walls cracked. The lights went out.

* * *

><p>The group of nine humans trudged their way through the cold desert landscape. After gathering as much food, water and equipment, though mostly water, as they could from the bunker they had decided to head to one of the weather stations. Their goal was to hack its transponder and connect to any satellites that might still be in orbit. There was a risk it wouldn't work but it was all they had. It was the second night of travel, with them setting up camp in the day to prevent dehydration from the heat.<p>

"Is that a crawler up ahead?" One of them asked as they crested a small hill of sand and rubble. In the flat land below there was a huge, faded yellow land-crawler in the very center of the small plain. Its thick treads were motionless.

"Yeah. They sent out a few automated C-22's a year or two ago to check for metal deposits. They've found plenty already but they're still running." Ruiz panted as he wiped the sweat off his brow.

Colleen took a sip from her canteen. She was carrying most of the weapons the bunker had. Though they had argued fiercely about whether or not the group needed them, the idea of having and not needing had won out.

Ruiz snapped his fingers. "We can use the crawler! Don't even need to go to the station. Those things are driven by a V.I. but there's still a crew compartment and an override inside. We just use one of its transmitters to get a signal up to a satellite."

There were a few whoops but the desert had sapped the energy out of most of them.

The group slowly made its way towards the enormous crawler. At almost forty meters the giant crawler had been designed as a cargo and personnel transport or as a mobile sensor platform. This one had sonic, gravitational, and seismic sensors arrayed along its top and sides.

One of the girls from the other shift asked. "Ruiz, shouldn't it be moving?"

"Eh, it's got solar panels and an energy cell. It'll stop and recharge for a while before going again."

As they reached the crawler Ruiz and the girl stepped up the access ladder into the cabin. He tried starting up the systems but there was no flicker in the display panels. The woman got out of the cabin to check the underside of the crawler and inspect the power cell.

On her hands and knees, it took her some time to get the center of the crawler.

When she finally managed to see the power cell the news was grim. "It's melted. Oh there is no way I'm getting any closer to that."

"Melted? Like… _melted_ melted?" Ruiz called to her.

"Yes, melted melted. Half the damn thing is slag." Her echoing voice continued. "There's a hole in the middle of the power cell. Looks like acid damage."

"Maybe there was a chemical imbalance in the battery. Heat might've done it in." Someone offered.

Ruiz let his head smack the control console. So much for the crawler.

The youngest of the group spun towards Toombs. He looked shaken. "I… I saw something." His flashlight was shaking in his grip.

Toombs looked out with his own flashlight and saw nothing but sand and rock. He decided not to take chances. "Boys and girls, do you mind taking a sweep of the area with your lights? Kyle here is seeing ghosts and needs a nightlight." He tried to tease the tension out of the younger soldier.

It didn't work. "I said I saw something, man!" He argued.

"Just calm down, if something is here we'll find it." One of the other squad members consoled his comrade.

"And we'll kill it." The woman underneath the crawler offered.

For nearly a half a minute the group moved around the crawler, panning their lights in all directions into the dark night.

"Woah! On my target!" A dark skinned Private shouted.

The squads turned towards him and looked at where his light was pointed. A bulge in the sand was visible for only a few seconds before it flattened into a smooth surface like its surroundings.

"Oh hell." Garibaldi uttered. "Cowpoke, hand out the guns."

"What? What's going on up there?" The girl underneath the crawler asked. She hadn't made it back out yet.

"Get out of there. Now." Garibaldi ordered. He tossed Ruiz a BiLPro rifle as he got down from the cabin.

"I'm going, I'm going. But what-" The was a sound of ground shifting underneath the crawler. Then she screamed. The group ran to the front of the crawler where the massive treads weren't blocking their view but the screaming was already muffled and fading.

Garibaldi flashed his light underneath the crawler. There was nothing.

"Oh god oh god she's gone oh god..." Kyle repeated.

"Alright, hold it together! Guns up, everyone." Garibaldi ordered.

The unit did as he commanded. They were positioned in a circle with their backs facing each other. They began moving back to the side of the crawler so they could get into the compartment or on top of the massive vehicle.

Then the ground shattered around them. A huge worm, nearly eight feet tall, burst up from the sand in the midst of their group. Thought a few were sent to the ground, multiple rifles were fired at the large creature. The rapid onslaught of rounds tore into its skin and it seemed to howl. A large mantis-like limb lashed out and hit Kyle in the chest.

He was sent sprawling backwards away from the group. The worm retreated back into the ground.

Another worm darted out of the sand next to Kyle. Its yawning mouth gaped open and tried to swallow his legs. He managed to use his rifle to kick start a roll as its mouth descended. Garibaldi and Cowpoke focused their fire on it as Kyle desperately rolled from side to side to avoid the worm's lunges.

Just as that worm dropped dead from a spray of bullets into its head another burst out of the ground and wrapped its limbs around Kyle. The marine screamed and fired into the body of the worm to no avail. It dragged him down into the earth.

The first worm reappeared, its outer skin in tatters from the earlier weapons fire. It lurched and let loose a spray of acid at Ruiz and the remaining woman. The lethal shower hit Ruiz in his side. He instantly dropped to the floor and began screaming.

Garibaldi and Cowpoke shifted their BiLPro rifles to the worm that had felled their friend. Its eyestalks seemed to notice them and swayed its body for another salvo of acid. He and Cowpoke had been prepared for it, lunging out of the way and continuing to fire at the worm's large face.

A round managed to sever an eyestalk. The creature howled in pain and began flailing its limbs wildly. Its spasms allowed plenty of time for him and Cowpoke to shower the worm with a near-endless shower of bullets.

"Get to the crawler! We've got to get off the ground!" Garibaldi shouted as the worm dropped still. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a worm fall to Toombs and another soldier.

Yet, _another_ worm came out of the ground, trying to stop his and Cowpoke's advance to the crawler's access ladder. It too prepared to fire acid at him and Colleen. Garibaldi quickly grabbed the sole grenade they had off his belt and pushed the activation mechanisms.

Garibaldi pitched his grenade into the worm's mouth as it started to lean back. It choked on the sudden object in its mouth before reflexively swallowing. As it re-prepared for its acid spray its torso exploded.

The Garibaldi turned his head to check on the woman who had been with Ruiz but saw no one next to his friends body. He hadn't even noticed when Ruiz had stopped screaming.

He grimaced and turned his back. Toombs was at the top with the surviving pair of marines and Cowpoke was heading up the ladder. Garibaldi climbed as fast as he could behind her.

As he reached the top, they watched a single bloodied worm emerge next to Ruiz's corpse and pull it into the sand.

No one spoke. They stared silently at the ground the entire night.

* * *

><p>"Hey. Hey!" Toombs kicked Garibaldi's leg to wake him up. Michael took a quick look and realized he had been the only one still sleeping.<p>

"How many did you all kill? We got one." Toombs pressed.

"One here." A marine threw in.

"I got three with Cowpoke. Got real lucky with a grenade down its throat." Garibaldi threw in.

"I saw that. That was great." Toombs enthused. "Look, that's five down. There can't be that many more of them. We're armed and we can hurt them."

Colleen's blonde locks shook fiercely. "Toombs I know what you're about to say-"

Toombs looked at her fiercely. "We can make it to the station."

Cowpoke shook her head again. Garibaldi agreed with her. "It's a death trap out there. Even if we could run the whole way to the station we don't know how many there are. Or if they'll just follow us. We know they can't get us up here. I say we wait it out."

"We stay here… we might not ever get a rescue. We haven't sent a distress call." Said the black man who had sighted the first sand worm.

"We sent the warning about the dilgar ships. The Alliance knows we're here." Cowpoke argued.

"Or they might think we're all dead. If we make it out of this valley we'll be fine." Toombs shot back.

"You don't know that. I'm staying. Possible death here versus certain death out there? I'll take my chances." Garibaldi flatly stated. Cowpoke agreed.

The other two marines didn't. After a short but heated debate about splitting the rations the groups agreed to separate.

When nightfall came again Toombs and the two men were set to depart for the weather station.

They reached the bottom of the ladder and waited with their guns ready. Garibaldi and Cowpoke covered them from the top of the crawler.

Nothing. Not a single worm appeared nor was there movement in the sand. They walked further away. Still nothing. The group picked up the pace until they reached the hillside.

The three of them crested the slope and turned back to look at the crawler with Garibaldi and Colleen still topside. Garibaldi waved at them with his hand, wishing them luck.

The group turned and walked away. Toombs lingered a few moments before vanishing as well.

* * *

><p>It had been eight days.<p>

They had moved into the crew compartment and set up a tarp over the windows to try to keep the heat out. Neither was sure how effective it was. They kept the doors open to allow a breeze through the crawler.

To stave off boredom they had begun trading stories and recipes of what they were going to do and eat and drink once they were rescued.

"-that is how you make my ma's Three Alarm Chili. Been wanting to make it for everyone but all the ingredients never seemed to be here at the same time."

She sighed and stretched in her seat. It was getting harder to get up and move at all.

"So what's the first thing you're gonna eat when we get picked up?" Cowpoke asked him.

Garibaldi smiled, even though it hurt his chapped lips. "Let me tell you. I'll have my dad make it for you. You're officially invited to dinner. My family's bagna cauda. It's delicious. Butter, olive oil, garlic and anchovies. All put to a boil…"

Neither mentioned how they were down to only a few ration bars.

Garibaldi woke again. He didn't know how many days it had been now. In the distance the white sun of Vega rose above the horizon once more, bathing the world in its searing heat.

He groaned. Even within the first few minutes of sunrise he could _feel_ the temperature rising again. He took a deep breath of the air and savored it. It was only at dawn and dusk when the temperature was actually comfortable.

He held in a sigh. Another day of waiting was going to be harsh. He hoped that the others had made it to the weather tower but optimism was draining hour by hour now.

"Hey, Cowpoke."

She didn't answer.

"Cowpoke?" He nudged her side but again there was no response.

Garibaldi moved his upper body so he could see her. His entire body felt slow and sluggish. He took in her appearance. A thin layer of dried sweat covered her now gaunt face.

He slowly raised his hand and set it on her arm. "Colleen?" He felt her wrist. There was nothing.

He couldn't bring himself to move his hand for a long time.

* * *

><p>He hefted a PPG in his hand. Compared to many human weapons the pistol was tiny and lightweight. Right now it felt like lead.<p>

He had managed to move Colleen into the rear section of the crawler and covered her with a small tarp. It taken most his strength to do it, but he felt he had to.

In his other hand he held his canteen. It had barely a tablespoon's worth of water. He hadn't drunk it for almost three days.

'_Next time.'_ He resolved. _'Next time.' _

He'd have his final drink and see Colleen again. He closed his eyes.

An explosion woke him.

With his blurry vision, Garibaldi could barely make out a Frigga VTOL firing at several of the sand worms with its particle cannon. The sound of gunfire suddenly seemed to be coming from everywhere as he was pulled out of the crawler's driver seat.

As he was hefted into a stretcher his vision shifted. All he could see was the open sky. There were people speaking to him as they made their way to the Frigga troop transport.

"We got your warning, Corporal. You saved a lot of lives. Just hang on." A man with a medical patch on his sleeve appeared over him. His voice could be heard even over the noise.

Garibaldi couldn't even lick his lips properly. They were as parched and dry from disuse as his tongue.

"Wa' 'appe'?" The words were barely a murmur. His head drooped backwards on the stretcher.

Against his will he closed his eyes once more.

* * *

><p>And then he opened them.<p>

He pushed the thoughts of his squad out of mind. Toombs and the two men had never made it to the weather station. He'd always remember them, but there was little use wishing for 'could have beens'.

With a groan Michael pulled himself up so he was sitting in bed. His omni-tool beeped on the nightstand. He rubbed his eyes and reached over to activate it.

"Garibaldi."

"Hey, boss. Had a little trouble with one of the _Polo_'s scientists and he's demanding to speak with the guy in charge."

There were a few moments of silence as Garibaldi's hazy mind started to pick up speed. His subordinate's report clicked together.

"Was it the geologist?" He asked.

"Uh… yeah. How'd you know?"

"I did some checking before they arrived. His uncle's a big shot at IPX. Gotten into trouble more than a few times for being too frisky with the locals. Thinks he's mankind's gift to the galaxy." The man rubbed his face as he took a look at the clock. "I thought I told you to call me once the _Marco Polo_ arrived. When did it get here and why'd you let me sleep?"

"Eh, we had it handled. We still have it handled, really. This punk is just trying to go over my head. Too bad he doesn't know it's you above it, eh?" The voice chuckled over the radio.

The answer was one Michael had come to expect from his second in command. The man was a competent, if laid back, member of Alliance Security. Like Garibaldi, the man had spent much of his life in Security. They had both been transferred to Therum as Security for the colony's military garrison. With the base being a part of the dome city of Nova Yekaterinburg, Military Security and the local law enforcement had come together to share the jurisdiction and the workload.

Promising he'd be there soon, Garibaldi got out of bed and swiftly put his uniform on. A quick morning routine and he was rinsed and ready for another day of policing. He stepped into the elevator for his apartment building and watched the polymer dome of the colony rise higher above him.

His omni-tool beeped as soon as he stepped out of the building's front door. Garibaldi stifled a sigh and switched on the communicator.

"Garibaldi. What is it now?"

"Chief, we need you at the port. Like, right now." The voice sounded slightly panicked and out of breath.

Garibaldi's brows furrowed. He didn't like surprises and most ships that arrived were just for resupplying or expanding the various mining operations. He changed course and headed for the space port's landing bays. "I'm on my way but what's going on? Talk to me here."

"You know the Serrice University sent a ship with some more equipment and a new member?"

He wracked his mind. It had been a while but… a week ago maybe… "I got the memo."

"Yeah, well they didn't say he was a damn dilgar. Somebody saw him and word's spreading."

Michael's eyes widened. He picked up the pace to a full run.

A dilgar? On Therum? What was dilgar doing on a human world? What was he doing in Alliance space at all?

He borrowed, not stole, _borrowed_ the aircar in front of a group of people at a public transit station to shorten the trip.

As he arrived at the city port he continued forward with a brisk jog towards a growing crowd of people at landing bay 8. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the asari and turian girl that were part of the Serrice team. The asari seemed intimidated by the anger simmering in the group of humans.

Garibaldi didn't blame her. Having a bunch of people who had previously been friendly and polite turn into _this_ would be a hard thing to witness. Even with his own hatred of the dilgar, he had a duty to do. It was the only thing that kept him from kicking the alien off the planet himself.

He stopped as he approached the feline alien waiting next to his bags. The dilgar hadn't ventured from the transport shuttle. Short and unassuming, the dilgar looked very little like the ones he had fought at Tiree and Comac. "I'm Chief Warrant Officer Garibaldi, Head of Security on this colony. You are?"

"I am Kah'Ren. One of your guards said I had to get back on the shuttle. I have every right to pass through here to the prothean excavation. I am a student of the University of Serrice and I have the files to prove it."

Garibaldi's mouth turned upwards in a grim smile. "You know there's a joke in what you just said."

The dilgar looked confused.

"A dilgar talking about rights. It's funny. Ironically." He would do his duty. But he wouldn't be nice about it. Not to them. Garibaldi continued before the dilgar could answer. "Give me your identicard."

Kah'ren fumbled in a pocket for a few moments before handing it over. Garibaldi slid it across his omni-tool and look at the information it displayed. His lips thinned.

"It says you've only been a student at Serrice for a year. How'd you manage to get sent on the dig?"

The dilgar's eyes flashed towards the crowd being held away by the security and police. "I'm skilled at languages. I understand prothean script better than anyone else at the university. All the other experts are here. I earned this spot."

Garibaldi hummed thoughtfully. "It says you're only twenty. Impressive."

The dilgar paused slightly. "…thank you."

"You must have been what, three or four when Omelos went kablooey?"

The catlike face tightened. "I was four."

"Hmm." He continued looking over the data. As much as he wanted to say otherwise, the forms were legit. The dilgar would go to the dig site. Though the idea of letting a dilgar go near any piece of prothean technology grated it wasn't his decision to make. The Alliance had agreed to let Serrice run the dig with its own personnel as long as nothing left the planet without being catalogued and its data sent back to Sol for approval.

As Garibaldi was about to order the police officers to clear the crowd, he heard a voice.

"Hand him over, Chief."

It was Jeb. The bartender had made his way to the front of the crowd. Garibaldi grimaced. The entirety of Nova Yekaterinburg was housed within a single dome. News moved fast and if other people were showing up then it likely meant word had spread throughout the city.

'_Screw you, Luck. Really.'_

"Just walk away, Chief. No one'll say anything." The older man was clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles were white. Other people in the crowd were holding heavy repair equipment for ships or trying to shuffle forward against the group of officers.

Liara's eyes widened. The same people who had been friendly, the same humans she had seen working and talking earlier today were silent, glaring and focused. There was hatred in their eyes and their faces were grim. Liara chilled as she made the realization.

They wanted to kill him.

Liara took a step forwards to speak but Rathus yanked her back by the elbow. She looked at the turian in confusion.

"I can't do that, Jeb. And I can't let you do this." Garibaldi spoke. Liara was thankful for the man's presence. It seemed that even if he didn't like the dilgar, he wasn't going to let a student be mobbed.

Jeb shook his head. His always scraggly hair flailed about. His lips parted in a snarl. "I lost my wife, my son, on Proxima."

Garibaldi stepped forward in front of Jeb and spoke to him. "I know, Jeb. I lost my family on Mars. It sucks that he's here but he's got the right." Michael put his hand on the graying bartender's shoulders and shook him once. "He's got the right. Unless he breaks the law then we treat him like any other visitor. 'Cus we're human, yeah? Rights are what we're about. We're not like _them_, Jeb." He jerked his head back towards Kah'Ren. "We don't kill people because we can, or because we feel like they deserve it. We aren't killers."

For several seconds Jeb tried to work himself up. To argue against the Security officer. Eventually his shoulders slumped. The old man stepped back towards the crowd. Some of them had heard Garibaldi's words and though they didn't like the idea, they had understood it.

Garibaldi raised his voice and spoke to everyone present. "We aren't killers. So we treat this dilgar like we treat the rest. _Ignore him_. You all know who I am. Until he breaks the law, until he breaks the peace, he goes his way and we go ours. If he does." Garibaldi pointed at the dilgar without looking at him. "Then I will come down on him like the wrath of God. _But_ _not before_. That is _not_ how _our_ justice works."

The crowd grumbled but seemed willing to follow his instructions. The hangar bay was quickly cleared by the law enforcement officers.

Kah'Ren still stood at the bottom of the shuttle ramp where he had been. He wasn't certain where to go. With a shout and a gesture Garibaldi urged the dilgar to follow him. He looked at Liara and Rathus and called out to them. "You two, you come too."

Garibaldi led them out of the landing bay and into an elevator. From there he used his clearance to enter the lower maintenance levels. As the elevator descended he contacted the police department, ordering for a team to go and clear out the mag-lev station to the Eldfell-Ashland facility.

The trip was nearly silent. Garibaldi seemed totally focused on navigating the maintenance corridors and only stopped to swipe his identicard at the occasional blocked door. Kah'Ren did not speak nor was he spoken to. Liara didn't dare break the silence and Rathus felt no need to.

Though it took nearly half an hour, they neared the monorail hub for the dome-city. They moved up again through a cargo lift and into an empty terminal. Without protest the three students entered the mag-lev car and sat down.

It was only then that Garibaldi finally spoke.

He looked at Rathus. "Make sure he gets to the prothean ruins and make sure he stays there as much as possible. It's for his own safety."

"Understood, sir." Rathus responded crisply. Garibaldi gave her an odd look.

"You." Liara shrank back in her seat at the man's gaze. The harsh demeanor and actions of both the Security Chief and the other humans had shaken her badly. "Make sure someone sends a message to the University about this. Because you can bet the Alliance is going to be talking to them about dropping off a dilgar unannounced. I could have cleared the landing bay. Instead we almost got a murder."

Liara nodded silently at the man.

"And you." Garibaldi poked Kah'Ren in the chest, letting his fingers stay there as he talked. "I don't like you."

The linguist swallowed thickly. He had been assured by the University of Serrice that his stay on Therum would be safe. That no one at the excavation site would hold his species against him. He realized now that they hadn't mentioned the people _not_ on the team.

"By law you can be here. But by being here you make a lot of people upset and my job a lot harder. So you go to the site and you damn well better stay there unless it is _absolutely necessary_. Do you understand me?"

"I understand." The dilgar spoke softly but in the silence of the tram it was easily heard.

"Good."

With that Garibaldi stepped out of the mag-lev car and made a gesture at one of the security cameras. The tram doors closed and in seconds the mag-lev was in motion.

* * *

><p>Codex: Events: The Battle of The Line<p>

Considered the greatest defeat ever suffered by humanity, the Battle of The Line occurred in the later months of 2262.

Bypassing the well-guarded hyperspace routes, a dilgar assault group was only detected after it had infiltrated Alliance space and was discharging their drive cores at Vega System. While the dilgar were repelled at Proxima by defense forces after plague-bombing a small part of the colony, Earth had only two days to prepare for an attack with most of the Navy hundreds of light-years away.

The Alliance President called upon every ship capable of fighting to join the Navy forces in Sol. Thousands of private transports, corporate shuttles and cargo freighters joined Earth's defenses. Many had weapons and missile racks simply bolted on and ships that couldn't be given weapons in time used themselves as kamikaze attackers and living shields.

Though The Line held the victory was a pyrrhic one. Dilgar ships launched nuclear and biological warheads en masse. The low number of warships forced Alliance commanders to prioritize which missiles to intercept: there were simply too many to shoot down. The bioweapons, which could exterminate all life on the planet, were destroyed at the cost of several conventional fusion bombs impacting the surface. While larger cities were mostly spared Atlanta, Tampa, Cape Town, Port Elizabeth, Stockholm, Lyon, Kaohsiung, and Shantou were destroyed in the attack.

To add further injury the surviving dilgar warships attempted to crash onto the planet. When the attempt was repelled three ships broke off and performed an FTL jump to Mars. Two were shot down but the last successfully rammed Dome Four, killing most of the city's population.

Codex: Council Races: Asari: Psionics

For millennia academic communities questioned how asari minds managed to interface with those of other species. It was long believed by conventional science that attuning the nervous system to another's should not have allowed asari to experience the thoughts and memories of alien races. Even taking into account the asari's highly advanced and multipurpose nervous system, the neural chemistry between species is vastly different.

When scientifically confirmed long-range telepathy was introduced to the asari in 2267 the question had been answered.

All asari are latent short-ranged telepaths. Studies reveal that the Meld activates key portions of the asari brain that synchronizes the two mental presences. As the nervous systems blur into one, so too do the participant's minds. While lacking certain abilities that some other race's telepaths possess, to date the asari are the only species that is naturally biotic and telepathic.

* * *

><p>AN: There was a recurring question about technology in the reviews, so I'll try to answer a little.<p>

Firstly, the question about minbari stealth: The only explanation I have is that according to B5's canon the Earth Alliance tried everything. Radar, LIDAR, radiation, even backtracking minbari sensor signals. None of it worked. The minbari jamming/stealth technology has been aptly described as 'bullshit magic ECM'.

I tried to blend the humans from Mass Effect and Babylon 5. B5-human history is more dominant, but I've incorporated ME-humanity, such as the Second American Civil War occurring during World War III and their advanced genetic engineering. The Alliance has B5-ships, but started including mass effect tech into their designs.

The same goes for the Citadel and the rest of the League. They are each upgrading their ships using the other races' tech.

Examples:

Humanity developed the Omega and it was deployed in the Dilgar War. At first it followed the series' technology: Interceptors and E-web, pulse and laser weapons, and a rotating section. Then the Mars archives were found and mass effect hit the scene. The next generation of Omega's included kinetic barriers, eezo-based artificial gravity, and primitive drive cores. The rotating sections were removed and replaced with, you guessed it, _more guns_.

Turians have been studying minbari crystal armor and gravitic engines since the war, the wreckage of the Sharlins gave plenty of pieces. They've made headway with the armor and use an inferior version on their ships. They haven't figured out the workings behind the artificial gravity systems, but they have purchased and developed their own improved weapons.

Minbari have installed hilariously overpowered drive cores and kinetic barriers onto their ships; their superior technology lets them get more potent and precise mass effect fields than everyone but the asari. The turian's FTL abilities blindsided them but now the minbari know how it works. The artificial muscle fibers in Citadel power armor have been adapted into Warrior Caste armor to make the physically powerful race even more dangerous.

Asari, who were already the most advanced race in the Citadel, rapidly progressed on their antimatter containment systems. They've been studying directed energy weapons and used that knowledge to advance their ships' offensive use of mass effect fields. These newly developed weapons have replaced most of their ship's mass accelerators. They are working on refining their drive cores to hold greater electrical discharge for longer trips.

This is all just ship and military oriented and the most visibly obvious. Citadel eezo communication buoys are being replaced with tachyon ones. League telecommunications took a leap forward with Citadel processor improvements and the haptic interface. Advances in computing, medicine, materials, and manufacturing are all taking place.

It's an amazing, if dangerous, time in the galaxy.


End file.
